


Celestial Journey

by Tafaha_means_apple



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Compliant, Drama, F/F, Love, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-04-30 14:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14499111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tafaha_means_apple/pseuds/Tafaha_means_apple
Summary: On the holy slopes of Mount Targon, the newly christened Aspect of the Sun is gifted by the celestial presence inside of her with half-truths and incomprehensible visions of great dangers for Runeterra. The only person who might hold the missing pieces being a silver warrior now on a strange and foreign continent. She must find her, but then they must overcome the chasms between them.





	1. Ruminations in the Order

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place shortly after the events of Leona's Color Story (https://universe.leagueoflegends.com/en_US/story/leona-color-story/). I enjoy the lore canon, and will be trying my hardest to keep it in line as much as possible.

 

The bridge swayed as the winds rushed across the smooth rock faces and assaulted the aged planks. This was the fifth and final bridge before the fatigued troupe of golden warriors would reach the end of their journey. They left as thirteen, set out to protect the helpless and ensure the preservation of the holy mountain. They return as twelve, one lost to the roaming band of raiders that were shown the Sun’s mercy for those who would defile her sacred places and wound her templars.

Each of the warriors held their cloaks tight to their bodies in a largely futile attempt to keep the cold at bay. Each man and woman trudged forward, fueled by the thoughts of hearth, home, and the first warm meal eaten in several days. Of the battle hardened warriors, only one was not brought low by the journey nor by the wind gripping and biting into every exposed piece of flesh. Her golden armor forged of pure sunlight partially hidden under a drab leather cloak, but not even the simple covering could belie the divine nature of her armaments. Compared to the rest of the band, she did not shiver, did not flinch when the mountain saw fit to test her with a particularly harsh gust. She marched determinedly onward.

Eventually each member of the group reached the end of the blustering chasm, then following a set of steps carved into the living rock of the mountain, the final leg of the way home. As they rounded the curve of the mountain slope, they saw the glittering white marble minarets of the Grand Solari Temple. With the sun at its zenith, the gold inlays in the rock twinkled and the flags bearing the red and gold symbol of the Solari could be seen proudly flying on the towers and adorning the sides of the structure’s mighty columns. To fresh faces, this would make for an awe inspiring site, and even those that make this place their home still could look on in wonder at the blessings their Lord had provided for them.

For the sun armored commander though, she was filled more with trepidation and skepticism at returning to a place that for so long she considered to be a paradise for those seeking enlightenment and purpose. The beauty of the outside hid what she saw as an ugliness within. Her demeanor turning more morose and prompting the warrior behind her to speak up as they passed under the cornice and between the columns surrounding the temple’s outer walls.

“My Chosen, you seem troubled.” Curiosity and concern filling her voice. The commander did not realize that she had allowed her emotions to reveal themselves so plainly on her face. She consciously smoothed out the grimace that she must have been showing.

“It’s is nothing Atia, just not looking forward to the prattling of the scholars that will not doubt want to illuminate the story of our great battle.” She added a grin to her sister in arms hoping that it would be enough to drop the matter.

“Hah! I doubt even Claudius, Sun welcome him, would even consider it anything close to a ‘battle’” Marcus exclaimed overhearing the conversation, “but the scholars would no doubt make it seem as if we’d fought off hoards of daemons rather than just thirty spineless outsiders.”

“Our Chosen warrior nearly destroyed that band of marauders single handedly. Do you not think that is worthy of a honoring?” Said Ador from behind Marcus’ hulking frame. He eyed Leona with something akin to awe, but his youthful face also showed a slight trepidation. 

“Don’t speak to humbly about yourselves,” she began. “That dragon-helmed warrior and his raiders might have thrashed me good if it weren’t for the strength of your shields beside me,” a sudden rush of pride and happiness filled her from the celestial presence inside of her. It was all too pleased to hear their praise from her comrades. It revelled in the memory of how they scourged the marauders. Leona shook her head a bit to try and clear the passions filling her head. She struggled a bit trying to keep her thoughts separate from the restless being. 

“This battle would be a waste of good paint and time I say,” Julii said joining in. “Better to save it for some greater clash. I for one would give anything to hear the story depicting the glorious triumph over the great enemy and her heretical pawn.” The commander made sure to keep her face from revealing more than she wanted as she continued to lead the troupe toward the temple’s entrance. She hoped that this would be the end of the conversation, but Julii had other ideas, “I can imagine the tale now, facing off against her with our Lord at Her zenith. The Chosen’s armor shining bright with the truth and justice of our cause.” His smile began to grow larger and his voice more excited as he continued, “Think of it, the heretic at your feet, bleeding from the righteous fury you wrought upon her. Groveling and pleading to you for mercy as you show her what kind of mercy the Sun has for deceivers and murderers...” 

“You would do best to leave the poetry to the purposeless outsiders, Julii,” the sun adorned warrior snarled as she faced the impromptu orator, bringing the whole procession to a halt. She felt the presence inside of her fill her enough to give her eyes a hint of sunfire as she continued “Perhaps if you spent more time training your body in the ways of battle instead of blithering on like a village fool, then maybe Claudius would not be one with the mountain at this moment.” 

The strength of her stare and the cutting words filled the air outside the entrance to the temple. Her troupe looked upon her both with shock and fear at even the barest hint of their Lord’s power reflected in her amber eyes. They knew what that power could do, seen it first hand. The commander’s mind buzzed, the presence calling for her to teach this welp what it means to bring upon the wrath of Her being. She clenched her eyes closed, willing the passions and thoughts in her head to subside. 

She slowly opened her eyes and put on a much more gentle look upon her face as the presence acquiesced for now. The focus of her previous anger still looked upon her with fear and dismay, thinking of all the punishments that could come from angering their God. Punishment he was all too eager to inflict on a particular woman, whispered the force in her soul. 

She tried to ignore it. 

Stepping closer to the initiate, the commander put both hands lightly on his shoulders, “Forgive me Julii, I am tired from our journey home and I’m afraid that I took it out on you and the memory of our dear Claudius.” She gave the young man a small smile as she continued, “I did not mean to imply that his death was your responsibility, as his leader that burden belongs to me.” 

The rest of the warriors relaxed as it appeared the wrath of the Sun had passed. “However,” she continued, “I felt the joy in your words at the thought of debasement and punishment. We should not gain personal satisfaction from the enactment of justice, even against those who may have hurt us personally.” She looked pointedly at the young templar in front of her, “I know you still grieve for the loss of your father, Elder Tullius, but that pain should not blind you to Her teachings. Bask in Her life-giving...” 

“... for our Lord is the light of hope, the cleansing rays of justice, and embodies the world entire” finished the eleven onlookers together in prayer. 

Julii nodded his head in affirmation, looking at the ground in somber reflection. She gave his shoulders a final squeeze before turning and passing through the main entry tunnel. The warriors followed their Chosen through the long passage that cut through the dense outer walls of the temple complex. Its thickness strong enough to keep even the harsh weather of the mountain at bay. Through the stone they could all hear the sound of horns blowing from the top of the towers and announcing their return. 

The courtyard outside the tunnel quickly filled with members of the Order eager to welcome back the members of the Ra-Horak along with their Chosen warrior. Leona was heartened by the joy filled faces that greeted them in the courtyard, so different from what they had been when she had returned from the top of the mountain. Excited faces and wide smiles awaited a reconnection with their protectors. Leona still did not know how to feel about the pure adoration that people held when they looked at her, their prophesied warrior. Since being brought to the Solari after her near execution, she had looked forward to the day that she could lead her newfound family to prosperity. 

But after what she had learned on the mountain’s peak, she felt unsure and ill at ease.

Her band of Ra-Horak broke apart to greet friends and loved ones among the courtyard’s congregation. Leona looked on as Atia met with her sister, a diminutive little thing by the name of Atronia. The two could not be more physically different from one another, where Atia was strong and tall with her short curly brown hair held back by a golden circlet, Atronia was near a head and a half shorter; lithe and skinny with silver bands keeping her long night-black hair controlled as it flowed over her shoulder all the way down to her waist. 

Marcus quickly found his protege, Quintus, among the mass, bringing him into an embrace that lifted the considerably sized lad nearly a foot off the ground. The youth knew better than to resist at this point, not that he’d be able to seeing as how Marcus towered over most of the Order. Marcus had been teaching him everything he knew on combat, hoping that one day that he might be welcomed into the ranks of the Order’s templars as well. His devotion and appreciation to the art of battle had always impressed Leona in the past, but it was his surprising care and kindness that always stuck out to her these days. There was a portent lack of such qualities among some of the Solari that she knew not how to break. 

Even Julii, still somber after his lecturing, found easy smiles with his small group of friends. Leona saw one of his companion’s, Nipia, quickly slip her arm through the crook of his. Both of them sharing a short but poignant glance when the rest were distracted by Drusus’ account of the dragon-helmed barbarian that the Chosen had slain with divine fire. The presence within Leona opened up her senses, allowing her to sense the inklings of affection between the two of them. A soft pink hue filling their spirits as Julii used his other hand to lightly brush against her knuckles as Nipia tightened, ever so slightly, her arm’s hold on his. Love still flourished on the harsh slopes of Targon, even in the face of Solari tenets on the sins of carnality. 

Few were bold enough to truly engage with the Sun’s warrior on Runeterra, which left Leona to simply enjoy the sight of her people sharing each others’ happiness. The presence grew restless inside her, opening her awareness up to draw in the passions and emotions that surrounded her. Sharing mortal space between her spirit and the Sun’s divine light had its drawbacks, often requiring her to maintain vigilant control against its influences. But right now, she simply closed her eyes and let herself experience the happiness around her. 

The calmness she felt almost made her forget, there were certain customs needed to be held on their return. “Brothers and sisters!” she began calling attention to all around her, “while we may have returned victorious against this latest scourge upon the holy mountain, we must recognize the sacrifices made.” 

All eyes were swiftly upon her and silence filled the marble courtyard. “Our dedicated Ra-Horak have continued in their commitment to protecting our mountain, and for that we all give thanks and pray to the Sun that they may continue to protect the helpless, promote fair justice, and ensure truth reigns amongst the holy stones.” Leona took a breath, “However, we must remember that with service comes sacrifice, and today we must mourn the loss of Horak templar Claudius who gave his life for the mountain and his shield brothers and sisters.”

“May the Sun welcome his soul, and the mountain bring his body into her heart.” finished the group, their heads dipped in prayer. After a moment of silence the congregation of Solari broke back off into their revelry, Leona smiled and moved to head deeper into the temple. Her senses still enhanced from before, she felt a rather unpleasant emotion in the area. Anger and contempt assaulting her previous contentment. The golden warrior quickly identified the source of the souring, standing next to the door to the hallway she was heading towards was an individual she would give anything not to deal with. 

“Chosen Leona,” greeted the man dressed in the impeccably maintained gold and white robes of a Solari Elder. 

“Caelus” she replied curtly with a small inclination of her head, hoping that a short acknowledgment would dissuade him from his constant petitions. She knew she would not be so lucky though.

He gave a small smile that merely attempted to cover his displeasure at the lack of title. She moved past him into the hallway only for him to match step with her. “I was wondering if I could borrow our Aspect’s attention for a short while.” Ah, so politeness would be his opener, Leona thought. He’s usually more upfront about it. She’d probably prefer that, the politics of it all grated her. 

“How has the harvest been going in my absence?” She decided that if he wanted to put up a facade of cordiality, she would too. 

“Preparations are going smoothly, even considering our inumerable tragedies of the past year, we have had no troubles preparing for the coming winter. In fact, our stores are markedly larger than in previous years. No doubt a blessing from our Lord.” He gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, the last sentence said as if it were some kind of compliment directed toward Leona.  _ I don’t make the crops grow you sycophant _ , she thought. “More importantly though, I am certain that this is a sign the heavens are calling us to action.

_ Us?  _ Leona thought. “Please Caelus,” she sighed, pinching her the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes, “one of my Ra-Horak is dead and I’m tired. So would you do us both a favor and get to the point we both know you are itching to make?” 

He appeared pleased at this notion, he had never liked dealing with her even before her experience on Targon’s peak, keeping things to the point suited both of them. “Very well my Chosen. It has been over two hundred and forty celestial cycles since the heretic defiled our temple and slaughtered our venerated elders.” He attempted to stand taller as he got onto his sermon mount. “It is time for justice to be done.” 

Leona continued walking down the hallway that proved to be much too long, giving Caelus ample time to preach at her for the thousandth time. He continued, “We must right the wrongs we have endured. The she-witch threw our entire order into chaos, threatening the preservation of our Lord’s holy mountain. The Sun would not tolerate our idleness when there is justice and punishment needing enactment.” 

Her blood started to boil slightly at that last assertion, the presence in her head feeding into her agitation and turning it into a dangerous brew. “And what, pray tell, do you know of the Sun’s wishes,  _ Elder _ Caelus?” Leona growled, her eyes filling with fire. “You are speaking to one who has reached the peak of the mountain and seen the heavens above, and yet you again dare to lecture me on this subject?”

“What I can’t believe is that whatever you saw on the mountain, if indeed what you said was true, would make you forget about the murder of our friends and companions.” Caelus didn’t back down from her stare. 

“I can personally assure you that the Sun has not forgiven  _ any _ transgressions,” Leona responded, “believe me, sometimes I wish she did, but the situation is not simple.” She tried to reign in her anger, it would do no good to enrage one of the few prominent leaders the order had left. 

“How could you wish for such a thing?” He asked, aghast. “For time immemorial, our Lord has been the harbinger and purveyor of justice and punishment. To wish otherwise is to blaspheme her truth.” It seemed as though her attempt to cool the situation had only made it worse. “Do you not want to get vengeance for our Elders? Do you not miss elder Flavius, or Maera, or Heliodora? They were incinerated by the fire of daemonic powers!” His arms gesticulated until he paused as he appeared to think of something. He continued, his voice low and firm. “Do you tell Horak Julii that he will never see justice for his father’s murder?”

At hearing this the presence inside of Leona began to push against the bounds of her mind. It’s fickle temperament pointing its rage now toward the heretic, calling for her head. She closed her eyes for a moment, keeping her breathing steady as she tried to assuage the divine spirit within her. The stories on the past aspects never mentioned how tiring having a second being within them could be, especially one as inconsistent and emotional as hers. 

Caelus seemed to interpret Leona’s moment of spiritual disorder as some form of acquiescence, a true smile breaking out on his face. “Right now is a moment of divine providence, I know it!”

“Why do you think that this time, out of all the times before, is going to be the one to get me to abandon the protection of the holy mountain?” 

“Because your protection won’t be needed, or at least not for some time. The massacre threw our order into chaos. All our elders dead, the inner sanctum of the temple destroyed, and your disappearance on the mountain left us in shambles.” He paused to gather his thoughts together. “But now we have rebuilt, we have stored enough food to last through  _ two _ winters, and our warriors along with the Ra-Horak can effectively defend the mountain on their own. All our hard work has led us to this moment to achieve justice for the Solari!”

Leona was finished with this conversation, she had heard enough. Her response nothing short of a growl, “We all did not work to rebuild the order or lose friends and comrades in arms to marauders sensing our weakness just to satisfy your lust for vengeance.” She turned her back to the upjumped priest and began to walk away. “Now, go pester someone else.”

Caelus spoke to her retreating figure, his voice low and filled with disdain, “If you will not go and fulfill your duty as the supposed Sun’s chosen champion, then I will have no choice but to have the Elder Council compel you to go or be punished for irreverence.”

Leona paused as she approached the staircase that would take her away from this unpleasantness. The presence and her now on the same page as the desire to respond to the threat in kind grew, but she maintained her composure. 

“Do as you see fit, Elder Caelus,” she responded and hoping to convey as much malice as possible, “may the Sun grant you the mercy that you deserve.” 

She left the young elder in the hallway, preceding up the marble staircase and hoping that she could get some peace after enduring the previous unwelcome visit. She wondered if Caelus and the council would actually be bold enough to demand her action or risk punishment. Most of the council was of similar mind to the unpleasant Master of Sermons.

The heavens seemed to be on her side as she was left unmolested as she ascended the stairs to reach her destination, an unassuming little room tucked away in a far corner of the temple’s residencies. She gave the simple wooden door a few knocks, waiting for a response. The door swung open, slamming into the wall on the other side. A little girl with bright blonde hair appeared in the doorway before tackling Leona in a tight hug across her waist.

“Leona!” she exclaimed, burying her face in the armor plates across her abdomen, not caring in the slightest about the hard surface.

“Why hello Papia, how’s our Sun’s little golden child?” she gave the young Solari a grin that nearly matched hers.

“Good! Although Elder Lucilia is making me read the Annuads again.” A scowl spreading across her face, “She’s also trying to get me to eat boulder beets.” 

“Oh what a tragedy!” Leona sympathized, “I always hated them when I was your age, I once bit into an undercooked one and it nearly shattered my teeth.” She made a chomping motion at Papia who giggled while still clinging to her armor. “Are the elders feeling up for a guest? I would love to visit.”

“They’re sitting next to the window, come, I’ll take you.” The little girl grabbed her hand and started yanking her toward the other room. They passed through a hearth room not similar to any other room in the temple not built for praying and worship: sparse and simple. A few chairs situated around a simple wooden table tucked away in the corner, shelving carved straight into the walls that stretched completely around the room, a few clay pots adorned only with a gold-red stripe sitting upon them, and some gold and red sheets of fabric providing the only true bits of color in the otherwise stark marble room. 

They reached the bedroom which once again demonstrated the Solari Order’s interest in anything deemed a non-religious expense. A wide bed of stone covered in a straw mat and furs, more gold and red fabric on the walls, and two rocking chairs next to the window overlooking a sheer drop and facing the eastern sky, a small end table placed between them. Seated in the chairs were a man and a woman who seemed as old and aged as the temple around them. Leona let out a sigh of relief at seeing them, the last two true Elders in the Solari order. The woman sat tall in her chair despite her age, her elderly frame belying the strength of a past warrior. Her partner was much smaller, although he wasn’t much larger in his youth if you were to believe the elderly woman’s stories. His startling blue eyes were closed as he rested, his ever present smile adorned his wrinkled face even in sleep. 

“ Lucilia! Pullo!” the young girl hollered, “Leona’s come back and she’s here for a visit!” 

“Girl we are old, not deaf. Don’t be yelling at us when we’re just right across the room from ya,” Lucilia gave an exasperated sigh. Directing herself toward the man sitting next to her, “I swear by morning’s light I don’t get why you think this one is made for the scholar’s priesthood. She has the spirit of a fighter.” 

“You think everyone is a warrior, my darling,” the elderly man replied, opening his eyes. “You’re always saying, ‘This one’s too quiet, a good whack with a shield will break their shell’ or ‘she makes a good stew, we need that one on the battlefield, it’d keep our spirits up.’” Pullo shook his head and gave a gravely chuckle. “Hello child,” now addressing Leona as she stepped up to the pair at the window, “have you come to give me a grand story I can illuminate and add into the annals?” 

“You forgetful old saberhorn, you haven’t been able to pick up a damn brush in near twenty years!” Asserted Elder Lucilia. 

“You don’t have to be able to paint to see the illumination, the cacophony of colors blending together to capture the perfect scene.” The old man gave a long sigh and closed his eyes. 

“I’m afraid my tales of late aren’t worthy of being illuminated by a past Grand Master of Scribes,” said Leona, a small smile on her face. 

“Don’t you go and get his ego up,” Lucilia replied, “he gets enough of that from that girl’s enamored looks as he tells the story of Brion the Bard for the hundredth time. The Sun’s light knows I’ve tried to get her to appreciate the tales of valor and battle written in the Annuad, but the last time I tried she fell asleep halfway through. Can you believe that? A child falling asleep to the excitement of glorious combat.”

Papia’s eyes wandered around the walls with a bashful look on her face, humming innocently.

“Not every hero needs to bash someone in the head with a club, my beloved flower bud,” Elder Pullo said. 

“Maybe not, but the exciting ones do,” she retorted. “Speaking of warriors, what’s bothering you girl? Run into Caelus the Canting on the way here?” 

“Hmph,” Leona grunted, mildly surprised she could be read that easily by the retired warrior. “His pestering really knows no limits it seems, this must be the four hundredth time he’s petitioned me.”

“By my count it’s his three hundred and fifty-third attempt,” supplied Elder Pullo.

Lucilia continued, “Bah, could use a few good skull thumps. But he’s the Grand Master of Sermons now, gotta keep his precious little head in one piece don’t we?” 

“Elder Lucilia, that’s not a very nice thing to say,” the blonde headed girl interjected. 

The elderly man gave a light laugh before waving the young girl over. She scampered up to him as he revealed a few little candies in the palm of his hand. Papia grinned, snatching the sweets and stuffing them in her mouth. “You should be used this annoyance by now, Leona. Never known you to be whittled down by mere rhetoric,” said Pullo. 

Leona’s mouth set into a hard line. “He’s gotten more forceful it seems, he even dared to threaten me today,” she said remembering his audacity. This caused the presence inside her to become restless again, pressure building inside her head as it raged and called for his punishment. Leona closed her eyes and tried to breathe evenly, thoughts and emotions getting fuzzy at the celestial’s influence. 

Seeing this, Elder Lucilia got a worried look on her face. Directing herself to the youngest one in the room, “My sweet, could you give us old people a moment? Tell you what, we can put off the Annuad lessons for right now. You can go and read about the tales of Arria the Dreamer in the hearth room for the time being”

A broad smile appeared on Papia’s face. She gave a little giggle before whipping around and running out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Lucilia then addressed the golden warrior, “Tell me child, the Sun still a harsh mistress?” 

Leona stepped toward the window, leaning against the frame and looking up at the evening sky. “Everyday. It’s always something, when passions run hot it gets as loud as a braying herd of razorbacks,” she said. “Just the other day, Horak Imi spilled hot soup on me and for a whole hour afterward it wouldn’t stop telling me to shove my sword through his chest.” 

The older woman gave a hearty snort at that, but her partner was a little less amused. “I’ve studied our scriptures my entire life, I can tell you about every single scrap of paper that discusses our Lord’s proclivities,” Elder Pullo began. “But none of them depict Her nearly as fickle or emotional as you tell us.” 

“Bah, all you fancy scholars think you know everything,” Lucilia commented, “It’s all that reading they do. They gotta get a taste of the real world outside the dusty tomes and sermons written by those who’ve never left the mountain.”

“Sweet bear, I don’t think leaving the mountain to kill raiding bandits and marauders as you’ve done counts as ‘tasting the real world’,” Pullo chuckled, “and life on the mountain is more real than any lands ruled by people who have never seen the holy carvings on the mountain's face.” 

“What do you know about it? I’ll tell you, you can learn more from someone when you are trying to bludgeon them with a club than by reading about them!” The now elderly and now diminutive warrior exclaimed, swinging her arm like she once swung a sword.  Leona laughed, she didn’t really know about that, she didn’t get any kind of insight into the dragon helmed warrior they had fought. She definitely got an impression of his brutality, she guessed. 

“The presence is not all violent, my Elders, it just seems to get… caught up in the passions around me, regardless of where they come from,” Leona continued. The being inside her seemed to be able to tell they were not saying particularly praiseworthy things. It began to get restless, angry at Pullo, Lucilia, and even Leona herself. Her jaw clenched as it called for their comeuppance and divine punishment be brought down upon them all for their insolence.  _ You’re wanting to punish me now? We are sharing the same space if you haven’t noticed _ , Leona thought exasperatedly. 

“I have had a recent experience with the violent side though. It’s difficult not letting it control my thoughts completely,” the Sun’s chosen said. “When I give it what it wants, when I give in to its passions, it’s so easy. Simple. And the power I feel by giving myself over...” she shuddered a bit. She remembered the feeling when she had all but vaporized the group of marauders trying to flee shortly after she had melted the skin off their dragon helmed leader. The power and intensity, every inch of her body alight with energy. By the heavens, she had never felt anything so exhilarating in her life. 

But then she remembered the looks that her Ra-Horak templars gave her as the sun was setting over the aftermath of the battle. They looked upon her with terror at her half-crazed smile, eyes wide and still alight with sunfire as she stared over what remained of the marauders. Every cell in her body imbued with divine energy gave her enhanced senses and allowed her to feel those around her. Their fear overpowered her, bringing her down from her high. In that moment she wasn’t their leader, their comrade, or their friend. She was some daemonic creature there to maim and punish. Leona shook her head, willing the images away when Lucilia leaned forward and grabbed her hand tightly.

“Our Lord can be as harsh and unforgiving as life on the holy mountain,” she began, “but I know that she chooses her champions well. She knew you could be strong enough for the trials to come.” Leona looked at the two Elders in front of her and saw in their eyes an absolute and unwavering confidence in her. “There is a change on the mountain, young one. Greater forces than this simple soldier could understand are making moves, I can feel it in very depths of my soul. I know you will be ready” she paused before continuing, “You  _ must  _ be ready.” 

“There was a time when I believed that I deserved your faith. But after my time on the mountain’s peak I’m not so sure anymore,” her gaze dropping from theirs and staring at the floor. She used to beam with pride when the Elders would speak of her prophesied destiny, the chosen one to bring order to the celestial realm and to usher in a great new era for the Solari. “I was so sure of the truth I spoke, but now I’m filled with doubt.” 

Elder Pullo straightened up and leaned closer to the two women, his face grimacing in pain as his old back protested. “I remember when you were first brought here, Leona. Still bandaged and wounded from your near execution among the Rakkor. You were not so sure then either. Looked about as out of place as a green pasture in the dead of the mountain’s winter. But you didn’t back down, you faced your new life with your head held high and a determined resolve in your eyes to discover your new place here. There is a beauty in those who confidently tread, yet still with an open mind, through unfamiliar canyons and across untraversed mountain slopes.”

The wan old man then spoke with a seriousness she wasn’t used to hearing out of the soft-spoken scribe, his blue eyes staring straight into hers, “For all my knowledge and examination into the celestial realm I must admit that I, truly all of us, know not the plans of the Gods. In this you must not be a slave to the past or the traditions of mere men. For you have been gifted with a higher purpose, and that means you might have to face things within yourself you’d rather not.” His eyes pierced through her, seeing thoughts that she had been trying to bury through her duty to rebuild and protect the Solari. Thoughts of a a day of burning fire, death, and a woman in silver armor. 

“I can’t stay here,” Leona said.

“No, you cannot,” replied the battled seasoned elder still gripping her hand.

“This may be the holy mountain, but it is as much a part of the world as everywhere else,” continued Pullo. “When the last sun sets, the final battle won’t just be fought here, but anywhere that life thrives.”

Leona sighed, “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be accomplishing. Vague feelings and visions from a tempermental presence is not anything resembling a guide.” She paused for a moment before giving a slight chuckle as a thought entered her mind, “At the very least I won’t have to hear Caelus’ screechings anymore, his petitions and obviously targeted sermons on vengeance and justice were enough to make me want to push him off one of the minarets.” 

Lucilia gave her a short laugh in response, “He has a pretty voice even if he does drone on about the most painful subjects.” Her face grew a little somber at the reminder, “You will begin your travels at the behest of pain and tragedy. This old razor-goat and I lost many friends on that fateful day, people that we had known since we were all children. I remember each of them. You remember Elder Eluti, right?” 

Leona nodded, “She helped train me in Solari combat techniques after I came here.”

“Well, I remember when she was nothing but a gangly-limbed scholar who wanted to become a Ra-Horak templar. She tried to train with me using the hooked halberd, but the damn thing was at least three times her size!” She guffawed, “but she didn’t stop training with it till she was able to bring me down. I remember how her face beamed at that.” Lucilia got a sad, wistful sort of look in her eye and looked away from the both of them. Seldom had Leona ever seen the gruff old warrior get emotional like this, Pullo reached across the table between them to grab his partner’s hand, stroking the back of if softly. 

“I miss Elder Samun’s cooking,” Pullo began, “he always found a way to make even the tough, mountain-grown ingredients of Targon into something delicious and filled with love. When I was engrossed in reading an old text or illuminating a passage and ended up missing a meal, he always saved me a helping and would scour the whole temple to find me. He always said that if it weren’t for you and him, I’d end up starving in some dusty corner of the temple sprawled over some ancient manuscript.” He gave Lucilia a small smile, “We must try and celebrate their lives, not focus on their deaths, my resilient tusk-bear.”

Leona didn’t want to think about this subject right now. She closed her eyes, memories of mentors, burning white fire, and  _ her  _ filled her mind as the presence inside or her shared the two elders’ sadness. Lucilia saw her reaction, concern alighting her face, “Dammit, we didn’t… Listen, we’re just two old bones who let their minds wander far too much for their own good.”

Opening her eyes Leona gave them a small smile as the presence calmed a bit, “Think nothing of it, we’ve all been through a lot as of late. If I get to be your age, I hope my mind is half as strong as the both of yours.” 

Outside the window, the Sun was beginning to set behind the mountains, grey clouds sweeping in with the inkling of an early winter storm. “I believe we should all follow the sun’s guidance for the moment and turn in for the upcoming night,” Elder Pullo told her. She nodded in response, saying her goodbyes to them and shutting the window shutters to keep the chill out. Grabbing two fur pelts from the bed she draped them over the elders’ laps, promising to visit them tomorrow and finally walking out the bedroom. Leona found Papia laying on the ground of the hearth room with no less than seven different scrolls and three books arrayed around her. The little girl bolted up, giving her another crushing hug as Leona said goodbye to her as well. She told her to ensure the two elders were comfortable before she returned to the youth quarters, and then Leona then left the simple room behind and headed down the hallway. 

Thoughts of leaving the mountain weighed heavy on her mind as she traversed the silent temple. Most of the other Solari were still attending evening prayers. Her lack of attendance would be noted by Caelus and the other disgruntled elders she was sure, but soon she wouldn’t be seeing any of them anymore so she knew that she didn’t care. Her room was situated on the top floor of the Ra-Horak living quarters on the southeast corner of the temple. She had been given a larger and relatively more extravagant room on her return from the mountain’s peak, both as an acknowledgment of her divine providence and the fact that she was the only one to survive the tragedy that had consumed the other elders. 

She reached her door and lifted the latch, entering the main hearth room. It was significantly grander than the hearth rooms in the other Solari living quarters, a round solid stone fireplace of black granite situated in the middle of the equally round room. Similar gold and red draperies to Elder Pullo and Lucilia’s room adorned the white marble walls along with rows of clay jars painted red and gold along the stone-carved shelving. Leona set about making a fire in the hearth to bring some light and heat to the room. She quickly had a warm fire going, the properties of the marble wrought from the very mountain warming every nook and cranny of the room in no time at all. She sighed in relief as she sprawled herself out on a fur covered divan. 

She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep right there after such an arduous day, but it was damn uncomfortable in her golden armor. The furs on the chair only doing so much to keep it from jabbing into her. The armor was perfectly made for her from pure sunlight when the Sun adorned her in it after climbing the mountain. Swords and spears were fine, but divans were its limit it would seem, thought Leona dryly. She got up and began to take the armor off, flinging the various pieces across the room till she was left in her violet undersuit. Removing the sweaty garment from her body, she pushed aside the curtain separating the bedroom. Leona grabbed a pair of loose trousers and a simple brown sleeping tunic out of a cupboard and slipped them on before flinging herself onto the large bed in the middle of the room. She groaned in ecstasy as she buried herself in warm furs on the soft sheep wool cushion, hoping that she would find a restful sleep tonight. 

Her hopes, however, would be ignored. . 

She awoke to screams of anguish. Leona’s eyes bolted open only to see the walls of a foreign city in front of her. It’s walls a startling white, brighter than any marble found on the slopes of Targon, but with its splendor dimmed by black scorch marks and cracks spreading along it. She could see the city burning with bright flames billowing over the high walls. Guttural screeches of unknown beasts sounded behind her as the ground began to shake. Whipping around she saw the source, across the once verdant fields surrounding the city was a hoard of gnashing teeth and razor claws. The land around them was blackened, the ground reshaped into some horrid conglomeration of spikes and harsh earth. A monstrous behemoth taller than even the Solari Temple’s towers gave a blood curdling call and at once the legion of beasts charged the crumbling walls, right at Leona. 

Her heart jumped into her throat and she found herself unable to breath as she stared down the stampeding creatures. She brought her hands up in front of her and closed her eyes in a futile gesture of defense right as they reached her. When she opened her eyes Leona then found herself inside the same city in the middle of a central square. Startling white buildings and exalted statues of great heroes lay broken and or burning around her. Soldiers dressed in silver plate mail and adorned with bloody blue and green colors fought all around her against nightmarish creatures. A man with a polearm and wearing golden, spiked armor was on the front lines fighting alongside a large man swinging a giant broadsword as if it were as light as a feather. The golden warrior shoved his spear through a monster seemingly made entirely of teeth, the tip of the spear shot out the back of it, extending to skewer three other creatures before retracting to its owner. 

These soldiers fought bravely against the hellish horde, but for every monster the soldiers killed, hundreds more poured into the square from every direction, ripping them to pieces. A great shadow loomed over Leona and she looked up to find a great white stone golem stumbling about as it tried to tear various creatures from its body as they climbed over it. The weight became too much to bear, however, and it was sent careening down into the bedlam below with a deafening thud. It didn’t get up again as the daemons flowed over its body like an avalanche flowed down a mountain. 

Leona closed her eyes to block out the sights of brave men and women being torn limb from limb in a horrific slaughter. When she opened them again she saw a different city, this one yellow, and surrounded by miles and miles of sand stretching across the horizon. Above her was a massive disk made from the purest gold and covered in ancient runes. The skies were a black maelstrom of storms, and above the city were what appeared to be ruptures in the very air. They shined with a bright amethyst color and from them swarmed a never ending stream of winged horrors. They shrieked as they descended on the golden city, attacking the people in the streets. Spear touting soldiers marched around the city trying to fight off the beasts. A golden man with the head of a falcon commanded the soldiers, standing side by side with a blue eyed woman swinging a bladed disk through scores of daemons. As before, this wasn’t a valiant defense, it was a slaughter culminating in the two of them being slowly overpowered. The golden disk above began to fall then. She watched in horror as the surviving people of the city clung to one another, feeling their fear and desperation as they were crushed beneath its weight. 

Leona blinked. The ground lurched beneath her and sounds of explosions filled the air. Gathering her bearings she saw that she was now on a ship slicing through the water. Similar ships filled the ocean around her. Men and women carried long metal poles that shot out smoke and fire at webbed creatures crawling from beneath the watery depths onto their ships’ hulls. A woman with fiery red hair bellowed orders from her ship’s wheel, her weapons coming out to blast fire at the daemons that were unlucky enough to climb the ship’s side rails around her. Soon the ship was stopped, heaving as razor sharp tendrils flowed up from the dark water around them. Faster than they had any right to be, they darted around and impaling the crewmen of the ship while simultaneously slicing into the wooden hull. It creaked and groaned before the ship finally could take no more. Masts splintered, the deck breaking to pieces and throwing them all into the water where gnashing teeth waited just beneath the surface. Her body hit the cold water below as she felt slimy hands and sharp talons dig into her flesh.

Leona blinked. A great army, greater than she could have ever imagined, was in the midst of a battle like the others. Hoards of mutated and terrifying daemons fought against every type of warrior Leona could think of. Warriors from every corner of the world fought under a single red banner against the unending fiends. Mages hurled fireballs at wave upon wave of claws while warriors in simple steel armor slashed and hacked with halberds, daggers, broadswords, and other fantastic weapons she did not recognize. Battle calls from a hundred different cultures filled the air as their strength was put up against a foe they could not beat. A grey haired man wearing a simple soldier’s armor yet draped in an officer’s coat stepped into the foray. He whipped his coat away to reveal a glowing red arm before great wings of red magic sprouted from his back, a whirlwind engulfed him as he launched bolts of eldritch lightning into the never ending wave of monstrosities. 

Just as the warriors were finding their second wind, a high pitched whine blanketed the battlefield. Every member of the warband turning their heads as a great oozing beast the size of a castle lumbered forward. It drew air in a vortex into its gaping maw, a violet hue filling it and bathing the air around it in light. Finally, a great wave passed through it moving from its tail to its head and a beam of bright purple light shot into the mass of soldiers. Men and women let out short gasps and screams of horror before being incinerated. The beam swung around, sweeping across the entire battlefield and vaporizing all in its sight. Leona began to run as it started to turn toward where she was standing, but no matter how fast she ran it continued to gain on her. Sounds of torment and pain surrounded her as the warband broke, each soldier either being chased down by gnawing daemons or reduced to nothingness by that great beast. Her breaths was coming in uncontrolled gasps, she could feel the pulsing power of the beam behind her. It grew closer, singing the back of her heels. The beam caught her, bathing her in its light as she felt every inch of her skin blister and boil… 

Leona bolted upright in her bed with a loud scream. Sweat covered her body and tears ran down her face as she could still feel her flesh melting of her bones, could still hear the innumerable cries of anguish. She couldn’t get any air. She needed air. She threw herself out of the bed, stumbling as she scrambled to the balcony. Looking back, Leona would think it was a miracle she only fell once on the way out the curtained doorway. The mountain air was still, the storm from earlier having left some hours ago. The brilliant heavens above Targon were lit up with so many stars, constellations depicting ancient beings and great heroes adorned the night sky. Leona’s eyes saw none of this, however, her mind was filled only with scenes of horror and death. 

She filled her lungs with the chilled air, her heart still racing. Her hands gripped the balcony railing tightly and resting her flushed face against the cool stone. Breathing began to settle and the images, while still burned in her memory, started to fade from behind her closed eyes. A pervasive calm overtook the troubled warrior as the night was silent around her. Too silent she thought, and Leona immediately realized that for the first time since coming down from the mountain’s peak, the presence inside her was calm and quiet. She could still feel it within, but its incessant buzzing and pressure on the inside of her skull was noticeably placated. Savoring the feeling for a few moments she became aware of the strangeness in the stillness. Leona felt as though she were being watched. Although it was unnerving and she couldn’t say why, but she could tell that it wasn’t threatening. 

Her head rose from its place resting on the railing, eyes drawn toward the sky above her. Staring back at her was the full moon, shining like the central diamond adorning a crown of stars.  Leona had been raised her entire life, from amongst the Rakkor to the Solari, to see the moon as a false light, a harbinger of darkness. Right now though, all she felt was the serenity of the mountain air, and all she saw was how the celestial body bathed the slopes of the mountain in a breathtaking silvery light. She stared at her supposed enemy in the sky, wanting nothing more than for things to make sense. So much of her knowledge gained from the mountain’s peak was hidden, half-truths and incomplete visions was all she had. 

But Leona did know that there was one person who held what was missing, and she needed to find her. 

  
  



	2. Scourge in the Darkness

 

Smoke and the smell of burning warmwood from numerous long-stemmed pipes thickened the air in the lively inn. Patrons laughed and chatted with each other in a joyous revelry as someone with a lute strummed a light tune. The innkeep, a young woman named Tani, loaded a serving tray with hot food and strong drinks before she set out to refill empty plates and cups. Filled with warmth and drink, she saw most take joy in the companionship of others. They traded salacious gossip about whose daughter was seeing whoever else, or what stable boy got caught stealing whatnot from whomever, or betting on which child would end up trying to join a Zhuyuni drama troupe come next summer. Countless stories told by countless generations all around amounting to nothing but still giving the comfort of familiarity. 

After finishing her rounds she took stock of the room. Regular and familiar faces was all she saw. The coming winter scared away the few merchants and tradesmen that scoured the land, not wanting to risk a snap snow storm in the mountains surrounding the coastal town. She’d be seeing the same people here probably every week for the next few months, would have to beat the same young boys off of her with the sword she kept behind the counter, and with no new pretty faces to keep her engaged. 

_ Or maybe not _ , she thought with a grin. She spied a lone patron in a black cloak sitting at the far end of the bar. The traveler must have slipped in when she was busy with some other patrons. She was slowly eating a meal of seared razorfin with Tulaani spice-peppers along with a fragrant pot of Raikoneese tea placed in front of her.  _ Someone new, how exciting _ . Seeing as how the rest of the patrons were content and occupied for a moment, Tani decided to give the newcomer a little attention. She poured two glasses of southern rice wine, smoothed her ink-black hair down over her shoulder, and adjusted her dress to look a little less disheveled and hopefully a little more form-fitting before finally maneuvering her way towards the woman sitting alone.

“Hello there stranger,” Tani said brightly, a wide smile adorning her face, “don’t get too many travelers this time of year.” The woman in the cloak stiffened before shifting her head slightly, just barely enough to get some idea of who was addressing her. She then promptly went back down to eating her food.  _ A little shy I see, well shy company is still company, _ the inn’s hostess thought to herself. “Hey, you don’t have to worry. I don’t bite,” she began gently. “You just looked lonely and I thought you might like a little bit of company.” 

The traveler’s head turned slightly toward her again before uttering a simple, “I’m fine,” in a surprisingly deep voice and tinged with the inflections of someone from across the great sea. 

“Aw, come on now, surrounded by fun and music and you’re just sitting here all dour and alone. Wouldn’t it be a more enjoyable evening if you had someone to spend it with?” Tani sat the two drinks down, one in front of each of them. She leaned down over the counter and rested her elbows on the counter, her head in her palms as she tried to get a better look at the foreigner’s face below the cloak’s cowl. She caught a glance at smooth features and bright silver eyes before the woman pulled back.  _ Oh, a pretty one. What luck! _ “Would you do me the honor of sharing a drink with me? It’ll let you get a taste of some true quality Ionian spirits. Probably better than any swill you might have had wherever you’re from.” 

That caused the woman to actually look up at her, a scowl on her face. Tani got a better look then. Even with the scowl, she was very beautiful. Her face was all soft features and high cheekbones, tapering down into a pointed chin. This all registered with the innkeeper, but what truly struck her was her eyes. Her eyes weren’t just a clear grey, they truly shone a lustrous silver and breaking through the smoke filled room like the moon in the night sky. They regarded her with an unearthly gaze, black streaks beneath her eyes only serving to make them all the more stunning. Tani could see some sort of symbol on her forehead, just barely concealed with the cowl’s lip.  _ Some sort of priest? _ She thought,  _ well, no matter. She’s pretty, and I need someone new to talk to _ . 

“What I do or do not drink is none of your business,” the woman said. Her tone indicating beyond any doubt that she did not want to continue the conversation. This only made the barkeep smile wider, not one to back down at a little chilliness. 

“Oh, but I want to make it my business. This town doesn’t have anything exciting, so please indulge a simple girl’s need for some... _stimulating_ _company_.” She finished this by batting her eyelashes and pushing her arms together, giving the woman in front a pleasant view of her chest. “Could I at least get your name?” 

Tani noticed that a little red now colored her pale cheeks, which only made her own smile grow a wider. The woman’s scowl seemed to deepen if that was at all possible. For such odd eyes, thought the innkeeper, they were incredibly expressive.  The mystery woman’s mouth, however, only turned deeper into a frown as she replied, “No you may not, I came here for food and that is  _ all _ I want.” Tani was about to respond with a different strategy to get her new friend to relax when a few patrons interjected themselves between them. 

“What are you doing giving so much attention to this one here, Tani?” said the large man who definitely seemed to be full of too much mirth and drink that night. He saddled right up at the bar to the right of the foreign woman, another one of his friends appearing on her left. His dark eyes were glassy with inebriation as he tried to give the innkeep a seductive look. The cloaked woman’s nose crinkled up slightly at being surrounded by their drunken stench and sweat. 

“You know me, Liu,” she said exasperatedly, “new people always have the best stories to tell. I promise I’ll still be here another day for you to bother me, so why don’t you let me get back to my new and  _ infinitely _ more interesting friend.” She gave the woman another broad grin and a quick wink. The suspicious scowl only became deeper, but she did avert her eyes for a moment.  _ Don’t you ruin this for me you drunk idiots. _

“Seems like you’re doing all the talking though, what’s wrong with you then? Got a problem?” He directed at the woman sitting tall and stiff under her cloak. 

“What’s with the cloak too?” Lie’s companion added, “got something to hide here, outsider?” He gave her a distrustful look and a sneer as he leaned over and tried to get a better look under the cowl, breathing putrid breath into her face. “What’s a lone traveller doin’ out here in Xian this time of year?” 

Tani didn’t like where this line of questioning was going, “You leave her alone, Chanda. We should strive to be gracious hosts to visitors in our land.” 

“Last time Ionia tried to be gracious hosts to ‘visitors’, Chongdu city got turned to rubble,” he replied sharply. “Can’t be too careful nowadays, heard they caught one of those Noxian Warmason bitches in Misra last month.” He gestured to the woman, “She could be ‘nother one of them, ya know? Maybe we should throw this one into the sea like we did to the rest of them at Dalu Bay, just to be sure.” Even through his slurred voice, the threat was loud and potent enough to make a few other patrons in the inn look nervously at the group.

As Tani was about to give a cutting reply and tell him to take a hike for threatening one of her guests, she noticed that the silver-eyed woman had let go of the fork she had been eating with. Looking down she saw that her hand now gripped the metal handle of a cloth covered blade that rested on her side, concealed beneath the cloak. She held it tightly in her grasp with a practiced ease. A scowl still adorned her face, but what was once one of annoyance and suspicion was now one of determination and resolve. 

The woman spoke up then, “I have no interest in a quarrel with a few uncouth drunkards. Leave me be, and I’ll do the same to you.” _Oh spirits, that’s not going to help_ , Tani thought to herself. 

As predicted, the men grew more hostile, glaring at the woman still seated between them. “Oh, so she does talk. Got a mouth on her though,” Liu practically growled. “Maybe we’re not feeling like leaving you be, what are you going to do about it?” 

“You don’t want to do this, believe me,” she replied darkly. Her head tilted toward the man to her right, looking him straight in the eyes. Liu’s previous brazenness broke as he stared at her. The woman’s eyes were blazing with light, and it suddenly felt like his skin was peeling off his body. His mouth filled with the taste of copper as pain violently throbbed inside his skull just by looking at the woman. Tani felt the magic power in the air and saw that Liu’s nose had started to bleed, dripping onto the wooden floor below. She immediately regretted ever disturbing the woman.  _ Me and my weakness for a pretty face _ , she thought to herself. Last thing she wanted was for a mage to get into a fight in the middle of her inn. 

Unfortunately though, Chanda on the other side hadn’t noticed any of this and was too drunk to see that the color had drained from his friend’s face. He didn’t take the thought of some outsider threatening them too well. His hand shot forward and seized the back of the woman’s cowl, yanking her backward. He managed to get her out of her chair and drag her back before she deftly twisted herself opposite of him, yanking his grip off of her cloak. 

The cowl fell down and long pale hair poured down her back once freed from its cloth confines like a river of molten silver . It wasn’t just a light blonde or a an aging white, it seemed to  shimmer and glow along with the strange mark on the woman’s forehead. She stared at the two men from a solid stance, one leg extended in front of her, both bent slightly at the knee, and center of balance controlled. Suggesting a person familiar with the art of combat. She gripped her sword in her right hand as it extended down her arm and along her body. It stood out curved and wickedly sharp. The previous scowl of disgust was now replaced by one of pure anger as she glared at the two men still standing at the bar counter. 

Silence gripped the inn as the other patrons focused all their attention on the sudden commotion. Those closest to the silver-haired woman could feel the hairs on their bodies stand on end as magic power practically slid off her. However, for Chanda, alcohol continued to dull his senses and filled him with a foolishness that would make getting into a fight with a Freljordian berserker look like a brilliant idea. He lunged at the woman, and Tani gasped as she feared the large sword might be put into action. Her fears were unfounded as the silver-haired mage simply grabbed one of the man’s hands as he reached for her collar. 

A scream erupted from the man’s throat as his skin began to blister and boil under her armored hand, the smell of melting flesh replacing the previously pleasant smells of food and smoke. Chanda fell to his knees in front of the woman, brought low by the pain filling him just from the small point of contact. He lashed out with his other hand, and his fist found her abdomen with a bruising strike against armor still hidden beneath the cloak. The woman grunted at the hit and quickly released his forearm before backing a step away from the man still on the ground. Chanda held onto his burnt arm with his now bruised hand. The skin was blackened from even just a few moments in her grasp. 

Tani looked into the mage’s face and while she could still see the resolve to fight, there was a discomfort in her face as the woman’s eyes darted around from Chanda’s wounded arm then to the townspeople around her. She saw fear in her eyes, but from what she could not tell. Just from feeling the magical effects of her presence, Tani could tell that these two drunken oafs would not even be a minor nuisance to her. All the patrons in the inn would likely not even be a threat to her. Yet the woman’s eyes still shown with fear as they passed around the inn at the faces looking at her.

“Let me leave,” the woman said. Her voice still harsh and short as it was before the altercation, but there was something else there beneath the clipped demand. “Please,” she added before clenching her eyes shut for a moment and taking a shuddering breath. Tani heard fear in her voice, and she realized with a start that it wasn’t for her own sake, it was for all of theirs. The innkeeper’s mind conjured up memories of old Ionian children’s tales on the perils of magic, the threat that it posed if it isn’t controlled. Ancient stories of gifted children burning entire towns in catastrophic accidents of magic, teenagers levitating mountain tops, and tales of hastily-trained mages losing control in the midst of battle and turning their own comrades to dust. A land as magically steeped as Ionia knows the beauty and harmony that comes from training in the magical arts, but it isn’t ignorant of the dangers. 

She was terrified of hurting them. The woman looked at Chanda being cared for on the ground by another patron. She then shifted her attention to the innkeep still standing behind the two untouched glasses of rice wine. Her face was a solid mask of displeasure, anger, and determination, but in her eyes she saw pain and remorse. There was an apology in her gaze directed toward Tani. An apology for being cross to her, an apology for ruining the joyful revelry, an apology for putting these innocent people at risk. It was only there for a moment before her eyes turned back into the seemingly ever present scowl, but she still saw it.

The inn was silent for a moment before several patrons shuffled around and made a pathway to the front door. Seeing the people around her give her space, the foreign woman with bright eyes quickly grabbed what things she had and rushed towards the door. They recoiled from her as she passed by them, and she pointedly ignored them, focused solely on the door out. She yanked it open, letting the chilly early winter air flood the warm, comfortable inn. Before she left, however, the woman paused and looked over her shoulder and glanced at the townspeople. Tani held her breath as those eyes eventually focused on her.. 

The mage then pulled up the cowl of her cloak again and slammed the inn door behind her, departing into the night. 

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Diana stormed through the village backstreets, trying to keep far away from any other townspeople. Her breath was a deep and carefully controlled flow. The buzz of divine energy still lingered on her skin and within her being, while white hot anger and shame burned in her mind. She eventually found herself in a dark alleyway on the southside of the town without a soul in sight. Diana exhaled shakily, closed her eyes and tried to relax. She pressed her head against the wet stones of one of the alley walls, trying to steady her racing heart rate. The sound of water hissing caused her to jump back, however, as she realized that her skin had turned the water on the damp walls to steam. She looked down at her feet and saw small steaming footsteps going back the way she came. 

She groaned and closed her eyes again, face pointing upward at the cloudy night sky. Her mind drifted back on the incident at the inn. This was the first time in a long time that she had actually attempted getting an actual hot meal made in a kitchen and not over a campfire. She wasn’t even able to finish the food she had bought before those two brutes decided that harassing a stranger was the best way to pass the time. Diana was used to people like that, however, childhood memories of endless teasings along with the occasional beating came to the forefront of her mind. She shook her head and tried to shove them away, but it didn’t help. The image of how all those people in the inn had looked at her was burned into her memory.

Fear and horror were displayed plainly on their faces when the magic began flowing from inside of her. Flashes had filled her mind of a different time a group of people had looked upon her in the same way. They were people she had known well, who had raised her.  She clenched her fist tight and rested in on the wall. Uncaring at the sound of more moisture evaporating under her skin as her heart rate began to rise once more. Voices screamed in her head accusing her of blasphemy, heresy, apostasy. All wanting to kill her, to burn her for speaking the true will of the Gods. 

Now they are all dead by her hand. She had to do it. They left her no other choice. They deserved it. She… 

She still remembered them. How faces she had known since her earliest memories contorted in agony and terror as divine energy incinerated them where they stood, leaving almost nothing behind. She remembered how a certain woman with scarlet hair laid unmoving on the ground, burns covering her body and golden armor smoking. 

Her skin grew hotter as the memories flashed behind her clenched eyes. Small cracks began to form on the stones under her hand and on the ground beneath her feet as energy flared within her. The same power she had felt on the mountain those many months ago returned tonight at the inn. Anger and panic filled her as she had stared at the Ionians while magic tore at her insides. Begging to let it out. They didn’t deserve the same fate that had befallen the others. They weren’t afraid of what she said, but of what she could do. She didn’t want to hurt them. 

_ Deep breaths,  _ she thought to herself,  _ She would not have chosen you if you could not handle the hardships _ . Her heart beat slowed down as she repeated the words in her head. Slowly, the buzz of power sunk back down into her soul where it resided. She opened her eyes and took a long breath. The power no longer coursing through every inch of her body. She reached her hand out to touch the wall hesitantly, and gave a small satisfied smirk when the water beneath her palm didn’t sizzle. Collecting herself quickly, Diana calmly walked out of the alley without a single steaming footprint behind her. 

Her mind still drifted, however, to that night not so long ago. The night of her would-be execution, and the woman who would have carried out the sentence. Would still carry out the sentence even now if she were given the chance. Pain arced through her chest at the thought, but thinking of  _ her _ soon brought her thoughts to the friendly innkeeper that had tried talking with her. Diana’s cheeks grew a little hot walking through the empty streets.  _ Idiot _ , she thought to herself, _ did I look like I wanted company? That kind of company? _ Such indecent advances were unheard of amongst those in the Order. The flesh should be sustained by the Sun’s light, and indulgences of the material world would quickly find you forced to endure the Rooms of Reflection. For the worst offenses, it would be Sun Scouring. Diana remembered the time she had witnessed such punishment as a child. The way the light had burned the offender’s flesh down to the very bone in order to “purify” them of their sins. 

She shook her head and refocused her mind to the task at hand. She wouldn’t be able to stay in this town for much longer after the incident at the inn. It would be best if she left tonight. The townspeople might not take too kindly to a dangerous mage in their midst for very long even if this was Ionia, so she adjusted her cloak and cowl to better cover herself and began to make her way through the streets to the southbound road out of town. 

Walking through the streets she eventually came upon the town market, still abuzz with activity even late into the night. Tents and small shop stands were packed tightly together and forming a complex maze of canvas and wood throughout the space. Warm lights filled the air from multicolored paper lanterns hanging from stretches of cloth that made up the roof of the market. The smells of spices, seared querell meat, fried fish, stewing vegetables, and baked confectioneries from the restaurants and food vendors smothered her in warmth and comfort. Her stomach growled as her stomach reminded her that she didn’t get a chance to finish her meal at the inn. She glanced longingly at a particular restaurant that was serving a sort of marinated red meat still on the bone, charred and covered in a decadent sticky marinade. The customers ate it with green vegetables swimming in an odiferous noodle soup. 

She quickly closed her mouth into a tight line as she realized that it had been hanging open at the sight. The food of Targon looked and smelt nothing like the foods she had seen on her travels. Tough grains and even tougher, somehow dryer, meats from the hardy animals of the slopes was all she had known. Food was unnecessary, a trifle of the material world and only important to those that couldn’t find purpose in the divine. Diana’s stomach clearly thought otherwise, however, as it moaned a long and painful cry. 

She was considering lifting something off one of the vendors before heading back on her way when she heard the deep thrumming of the alarm bells from the top of the town watch tower. The townspeople in the market looked at each other in surprise and alarm as the sound reverberated through the air. A few of the town guards shoved their way through the thoroughfare heading in the direction of the docks while the regular citizens hurried to get indoors and away from whatever danger now threatened them. 

Diana stood there for a moment thinking. She wanted to get back on the road so as to not bring any more unwanted attention to herself here, but something pulled her toward the docks and her curiosity got the better or her. Trusting her instincts, she wound up following the guards on the way to the docks. 

As she drew closer and closer to the docks she began to hear the twenty some-odd town guards yelling amongst one another, calling on each other to move this way and that and adorning themselves with helmets, spears, and swords. One word was repeated and stood out among them: raiders. The bounty of the ocean brought food and trade, but also opened them up to raiding parties from far flung shores. Diana stuck to the shadows and away from the soldiers as she finally reached the oceanfront to finally see two ships less than a hundred feet from the shore, advancing quickly. 

They were were long and narrow, rows of oars propelled the war crafts through the black water at incredible speeds. The raiders on their ship decks screamed and bellowed across the bay at the town now set in their sights. Arrows flew from the ships at the town guards arranging themselves around the docks with a few of them responding in kind with crossbow fire in a meager attempt to thin the oncoming onslaught. The raiders continued unabated as their guttural battle cries only got louder and clearer as they approached the shore. 

At the sight of the raiders and their ship, Diana was brought down to a knee in pain as her mind was suddenly flooded with visions. Visions of ice, snow, and hulking warriors accustomed to the mountains, not too dissimilar to the Rakkor of Targon. Frozen mountain tops of true-ice, northern winds, and great demigods of snow, fire, and thunder passed behind her eyes as they formed a complete understanding.  _ Freljordians _ . She squeezed her eyes shut as her was pounded by seemingly unending rush of information. Endless pieces of knowledge floated in and out of her thoughts. Oral histories of great heroes of the Freljord, proper techniques for skinning a northern tusk-boar, a shortcut through Ragson’s Pass on the way to the settlement of Frostguard, and other pieces of knowledge whirled through her conscious mind. An impromptu gift from the celestial presence within her. 

When the pain stopped and Diana opened her eyes again she was able to understand the foreign tongue of the Freljordian battle cries. The words that they yelled across the sea were as familiar to her as if she had gone her entire life listening to them. Based on  _ what _ they yelled, however, she would probably  have been perfectly happy not knowing. 

The guardsmen stood firm as the ships drew closer, but Diana was able to see the fear in their eyes as they looked to each other for reassurances that weren’t there. These were just lightly trained boys taught only how to deal with drunken bouts and the occasional pickpocket, and now they faced against battle hardened raiders nearly four times their number. The boats came closer and closer until they hit the sand bank as a few of the Freljordians jumped over the sides and into the surf below them. 

One guard braver than most shouted as he lifted his polearm and alone ran forward at a warrior brandishing two steal war-axes. He thrusted the pointed head at the Freljordian’s chest, but his opponent simply batted it aside with ease before lunging forward and plowing one of his axes into the guardsman’s neck. The young man gave a strangled gurgle as he crumpled to the ground, blood staining the sand beneath him. The raider removed his axe from the now lifeless corpse right as crossbow bolt from one of the other guards struck him square in the chest, piercing his mail and boiled leather cuirass. He collapsed onto the sand next to the young Ionian he had killed. 

More of them jumped off of their ships to join in on the inevitable slaughter. The captain of the town guard tried to steady his soldiers as a wall of round shields and steel weapons charged toward them. They were prepared to meet their doom to defend their homes and families, meeting the battle cry of the Freljord with one of their own. 

It was then that several of the Ionian guards were thrown aside by a blinding white light as a curved line of silver fire erupted between the two foes. Some of the Freljordians, unperturbed by the wall of magic, barrelled onward through the blaze. Deep gashes sliced through any armor they wore as if it were nothing. They screamed out in agony as magical energy cut them to ribbons and reduced them into unrecognizable masses of bleeding flesh that collapsed on the ground. The rest of the band wisely stopped their charge and stared in shock at the wall of magic keeping them from their prize. 

The blinding light subsided revealing a crouching woman in silver armor and mail as black as night, wielding a wickedly curved sword. She scowled at the unwanted visitors to Ionia’s shores. Confusion and shock was palpable from both sides at the sudden intervention and display of power from this woman. 

“ _ You threaten the lives of those who have done you no harm, and pose no threat to you _ ,” she said, talking to them in their native speech. The Freljordians were taken aback for a moment, shocked that some foreign woman was able to speak their home language without flaw or pause. A large female raider broke from the shock first as she snarled and hurled herself at Diana, swinging a greatsword at her opponent’s head. Diana ducked beneath the blade and grabbing her assailants forearm. The flesh beneath her grip blackened and blistered. The pain forcing the Freljordian to the ground. This woman had the strength of will not to scream out at the sensation. Diana did not let go, rather she simply looked down at her with a harsh gaze before lifting her sword and swinging it through the woman’s neck, severing the raider’s head from her body. 

The body crumpled to the ground as Diana got a better look at the band of marauders in front of her. Most had long hair braided down their backs in various shades of blonde, red, and brown. Their physical strength was apparent with muscles and battle scars aplenty. There was something wrong with many of them, however. They appeared twisted, arms and other appendages looked as though they were covered in shifting carapaces of white and purple. Many more had black liquids dripping from their mouths, pus leaking from their joints and oozing down their arms and legs. There was a wild look in their eyes, an unsatisfiable and inhuman hunger. . 

Diana could feel the corruption within them. Forces from beyond this reality had somehow infected the lot of this raiding party. Eventually the Freljordians’ desire for battle and carnage overpowered their initial surprise and they charged her once more. She felt the power within her grow, her eyes glowing along with the mark on her forehead. She grunted as a swing of her sword sent forth a stream of divine energy through the middle of their ranks, engulfing some two dozen of them in searing light and reducing them to naught but ash. The rest were thrown aside by the residual force of the blast and tumbling over each other on the sand. 

Three of them collected themselves and began to walk toward Diana, a little more cautiously than before. Giving their new enemy some respect after seeing what she had done to half their group already. It wouldn’t save them, though, as Diana lunged forward faster than any human eye could follow and appearing behind them. She placed both hands on her blade and slashed across their torsos, slicing cleanly through without so much as a hint of resistance. The three raiders stood there for a moment in shock before collapsing to the ground. 

The Freljordians with their minds still intact were none too eager to assault the woman another time as they looked down upon the six pieces that were once three of their companions. The corrupted ones, however, looked at her hungrily. Two dozen of them with spikes of black rock growing out of the sides of their faces, fingers replaced by hooked claws, flesh dripped off their faces and revealed black bones beneath. Diana dropped to a knee and stuck her sword into the ground in front of her. The air crackled around her as she channeled the magical power within. Her mouth filled with the taste of ozone as the air she breathed became heavier and heavier. The power radiating off of her drove the raiders into a frenzy as all thoughts of self-preservation and fear fell away to an insatiable hunger. They charged her once more. 

The first to reach her was once a man with fiery red hair and bright green eyes now dimmed with the violet ooze pouring down his face. His chest was a patchwork of iron mail with boiled leather and jagged black scales that jutted out from his chest. He raised aloft a large battle axe behind his head and yelled as he brought it down on the woman in front of him. The hardened steel came down at crushing speeds before hitting a solid wall of energy around Diana. It shattered in an instant as magical energy traveled through it and into into the corrupted man’s body. Light shot out from his mouth, behind his eyes, and burst through his skin in beams of bright silver. His body shattered where it stood, the sound of his screams filling the air before the light spread outwards. 

It grew brighter and brighter as lines of magic cracked the ground beneath them in ancient symbols of a forgotten faith. Power pulsed through the air as the corrupted warriors were lifted off their feet and suspended around Diana. The town guardsmen had to avert their eyes as their saviour was engulfed in a maelstrom of energy and light far too great for them to look upon. Diana struggled to contain the torrent of divine power that coursed around her, sweat breaking out along her brow. She felt the magic as it passed through each of the Freljordians. Felt every inch of corruption within as her power scorched them inside and out. With a yell of exertion, Diana released the magical energy within. The beings that were once humans were vaporized in an explosion of light as all other onlookers were thrown off their feet by the strength of the blast, leaving Diana in the middle of a perfect circle of charred, smoking earth.

An excruciating pain brought her down to one knee, her legs too weak to support her weight. Her skin burned and a deep ache settled in her bones from the sudden exertion of power. She pushed through it, though, and got up from her kneeling position to look upon the eight Freljordians left out of the sixty that had landed on the shore. They returned her look with wide eyes filled with terror. Glancing behind her, Diana saw that the Ionian guards held the same look on their faces as they looked upon her glowing eyes and tendrils of smoke trailing off her body. A shot of anger passed through her before she shook it off with a huff and returned her attention to the raiders. 

Most of them looked so terrified that even a slight breeze would be enough to send them running. There was one, however, that was not afraid. He was substantially larger than any of the others and was adorned in shining scale armor of bronze plates. In one hand he wielded a war axe made of true-ice, shimmering with mist in the night air. His other arm was simply a black talon that jutted from his shoulder, now a nest of jagged black rock and steaming pustules. Veins glowed a soft purple across his face surrounding eyes of swirling black, sunk deep into his skull like bottomless pits of bubbling tar. He gave Diana a wide smile revealing black fangs that pierced through the flesh of his cheeks. 

This wasn’t some mind corrupted thrall of a man like the others had been. What remained of his eyes still shined with an intelligence that was lost on the others. He shoved the raiders away from him as he moved his way toward an opponent who might actually prove to be a challenge. It had been too long since he was able to truly test his mettle against someone worthy. Beating a warrior such as this would surely appease the Gods. 

Diana readied herself for the corrupted warrior’s oncoming assault. She watched him carefully as he gave a testing swing of his axe and his mouth twisted into a feral snarl. He lunged at her faster than any man his size had the right to. Diana, taken aback by his speed, dove to her left in a practiced roll right as his axe buried itself in the sand where she had just been standing, ice and frost grew from where it struck. 

She quickly got back on her feet from her roll, but grimaced as her body still screamed at her in pain. She wasn’t given a single moment to recuperate as he swiftly lunged at her again with the sharpened end of his deformed arm. She deflected the strike with a smooth twist of her sword and it passed by her side harmlessly. Following through, Diana attempted to jam the hilt of her sword into his face only to see his axe coming down from overhead. Jumping back to avoid the blow, but he followed her through it, leaping forward and slamming his corrupted limb into her side and throwing her through the air. 

She skidded across the sand before getting back up, grimacing at a new pain in her side. She reached down and felt that the sharpened claw had pierced her armor between the plates and bit into her skin. It steamed as the magic within her cleansed the corruption from the wound, but scarlet red still dripped from its opening. 

A heavy boot slammed into her stomach and knocked the wind out of her chest as the Freljordian was upon her again. He brought down his axe aiming for her head, and Diana had no choice but to roll herself away from the murderous strikes again and again as he continued to try and gouge her. She was faster, however, and each slash of his weapons only found empty ground. Diana summoned up a short burst of energy around her in order to create some space, and knocked the corrupted raider backward a few paces. 

They each paused to face each other with the moon’s light shining down upon them. Her opponent gazed at her with a crazed smile, showing every single one of his jagged and inhuman teeth. He smacked his axe against his corrupted arm, egging her forward. 

“ _ That is just the beginning, you pile of hork shit, _ ” he called out to her. His voice was disjointed and it took a not inconsiderable amount of Diana’s focus to make out the words. It reverberated in on itself and crackled as if every word was enunciated on broken glass. He pointed his axe at her, “ _ I’m going to take that sword and shove it down your throat to mount you from my ship! _ ”

Diana did not dignify that with a response. Her body began to shimmer and distort underneath the moon’s gaze until finally there was a burst of light. In an instant Diana appeared crouched ten feet behind the corrupted man. Steam wafted off of her armor and blood dripped from her sword as a moment of silence passed. Her Freljordian opponent, wide eyed, coughed up a wad of blood and black ooze. He looked down at his side and saw congealed gore and pus running down his leg from a chunk of missing flesh. The bronze scales and unnatural plating on his body did nothing against the unseen slash of her blade. 

The size of the laceration would have felled a normal man, but this wasn’t any normal man anymore. He growled before twisting around to face his opponent again, but was met only by another blinding light before being knocked off his feet and into the ocean surf. A sharp pain spread up from his taloned arm. He lifted his clawed arm up to his face to see that the lower half of it had been cleanly cut off. Blind rage filled him when he stared up at Diana standing resolute a safe distance away from him. Fighting him in close quarters would get her nowhere. She needed to cripple him a bit. 

His anger was making him more erratic and stupid. He did not even consider doing anything different as he simply pushed through the pain and loss of blood and charged her once more. Diana’s body ached from the magical exertion, but she kept going and met his charge. Light filled the air and the Freljordian was knocked airborne once again, new sets of slashes forming on his torso and limbs. Just as he hit the ground he was then thrown the opposite way as Diana struck him again and again. She was a silver blur, a maelstrom of slashing steel and white light. 

The Freljordian was eventually left a bleeding mess of flesh and panting breaths, kneeling on the ground. Through all of it though, he still held his axe in his hand. A true warrior of the Freljord in the end as he used the last ounce of strength he had to die with a weapon in his hands. Diana stood in front of him, a dark scowl on her face. She approached him slowly, not giving him any chance to surprise her even considering the state he was in. 

She spoke to him then once again in the language of his homeland, “ _You said you were going to mount my corpse on your ship._ _Come on then, swing your axe, make an example of me._ ” Her tone was bitter and venom practically dripped from her voice. “ _There was once another group of people who tried to make an example of me. Do you want to know what happened to them?_ ” His labored gasps were the only reply she received. “ _They burned, cleansed of their sins and corruption just like you will be. But unlike them, this won’t be punishment. It will be mercy._ ” 

She reached forward and grabbed his bloody chin and forced him to look her in the eyes. “ _ For the pain you have caused to innumerable innocents, you are going to die. But your body and spirit will be cleansed so that I might spare others the same fate. _ ” The mark on her forehead began to glow, her eyes turning to a molten silver once more. “ _ Be free now from the forces that corrupted you, may you find atonement for your sins in the beyond so that your spirit might one day find its way back to familiar lands of snow and ice. _ ” 

Magic flowed from her soul through her arms and passed into his body. His hand gripped his axe tighter, knuckles turning white. Eyes which were once pools of swirling tar shined with divine moonlight. The spikes of black rock and hardened patches of skin sizzled and smoked until they cracked apart, falling harmlessly to ground as nothing more than lifeless rocks to be washed away by the ocean waves. The claw attached to his arm crumbled away as well, revealing a pink stump at his shoulder. His body shook violently throughout it all, but Diana kept her hands on the sides of his head. A high pitched scream of agony came from his gaping mouth, but it was not him nor any human that made the noise. The Ionian and Freljordian onlookers covered their ears as the sound grew ever louder and piercing, shaking their very bones. 

Plumes of smoke and steam poured from his pores and open wounds until finally the light dimmed and she let go. He stayed on his knees for a moment staring up at Diana. His eyes were no longer twisting pools of black oil, but rather a cool sky blue. He looked at her as if she were the first sighting of land after being left adrift at sea. The raider inhaled a large shuddering breath before falling backwards onto the sand. When she looked down at his body she saw a man, bruised and wounded from battle, but a man nonetheless. No more jagged carapaces of unearthly rock and flesh. No more glowing veins beneath pale, sickly skin. No more claws or jagged talons sprouting from limbs. The ocean waves pushed softly on his lifeless body and the axe still held in his hand. 

Diana closed her eyes as well, face pointed toward the celestial body above her. She took a deep breath and shivered a bit, unsettled from the contact with such corrupted beings. Centering herself for a moment, she opened her eyes and noticed that the remaining members of her would-be enemies were still staring at her. Both sides stood still in shock at the veritable massacre they had just witnessed at the hands of the woman that stood amongst the smoking ground and mutilated corpses. 

“Stay,” she ordered the guardsmen, “I’ll deal with the rest.” Diana looked at the seven Freljordians left, and they visibly trembled now that they had Diana’s full attention once again. A few of them dropped their weapons and shields before making a wild dash away from her. They didn’t make it far, though. A bright light lit up the air and the fleeing raiders each found themselves knocked over and sprawled on the ground. Looking up they saw that despite their best efforts, Diana was now in front of them once again. She could sense that these few were simply humans without a touch of corruption within them. 

“Do any of you speak the common tongue?” She said, “I’d rather not speak in your barbaric tongue any longer.” They all nodded their heads quickly, bodies shaking as they brought themselves up off the ground and onto their knees. 

“Please, don’t burn us, spirit” began the first of them, a red-headed man with a mouth full of hork teeth in lieu of the original ones. “W-we didn’t mean nothing, we didn’t know this was your village. We’d’ve gone right on sailing if we’d…”

Diana silenced his groveling with a sharp strike to his cheek with the back of her gauntlet. The scowl on her face was harsh and cold. She turned to the one sitting next to the false toothed man, grabbing her by the throat with one hand and lifting her off the ground. She kicked her feet a bit as she dangled there easily from the end of Diana’s outstretched arm. This raider still had some fight in her as she glared back with fire in her eyes at the woman who had just killed all her companions. “So if I wasn’t here you would have burned this village, plundered it, and slaughtered its people?”

“ _ Fuck you, demon bitch _ ,” she got out in her native language through gritted teeth and the hand around her throat. The skin of her throat began to heat up and she released a strangled cry of pain as Diana’s powers cooked the flesh beneath her fingers. Diana’s glare grew stronger as her eyes glowed with an ethereal light before finally letting go. The raider fell to ground and shielded her now bright red neck with her hands. 

“You should know that the only reason I have kept you alive is because I need answers.” Diana pointed at the remains of the battle, “Your companions were corrupted with a vile presence. Where did it come from and why do you all not share it?” None of them seemed too keen to answer her as they simply glanced among themselves. 

Diana released another burst of energy around her and causing their lot to fall backward onto the ground. “Do you not know what I can do to you?” she said sharply. “You saw how I destroyed your companions in an instant. Imagine what it’d be like if I slowed it down, allowed each of you to feel every excruciating moment of pain before ending your pathetic, parasitic lives.” 

She grabbed the neckline of a rather short one and brought him up to her eye level. When she looked into his face, however, she saw a boy no older than three-and-ten held in her grasp. Pimples, not scars, were the only things that marred his face along with the tears that ran down his cheeks. The armor he wore was several sizes too large, and he whimpered softly as his whole body shook to his core. He saw his doom in her cold eyes and she saw the fear she caused in his. She sighed before lowering him down a bit so his feet touched the ground. 

She wondered why one so young would be a member of a raiding party, but she recalled the flood of images and knowledge gifted to her earlier from the presence inside of her. The Freljord is a harsh place. People find what means they can to feed themselves or their families. Diana also remembered that the Rakkor of Targon start training their children much younger than this one.  _ She _ had probably been brought on numerous scouts for daemons on the slopes of Targon by the time she was his age. Diana didn’t want to think about though. It’s too late, there’s no point in it. 

“What is your name, boy?” She said.

“Hrifla, m-m’am,” he began. “B-but everyone just calls me Rif.”

“Rif, this matter is beyond you, you know that right?” he nodded at her, still weeping. “I just want some information, then I can let you go and I promise I won’t hurt you. Do you think you can do that?” He nodded emphatically this time, the promise of life pushing him on.

Diana pointed to the corpse of their leader still in the surf, “What was his name?”

“Garthok” 

“Good, now how did he get his… changes?” She asked. 

“I don’t know,” he sniffled, “he came into Glasserport with that claw of his takin up just his hand at the time, saying he found some kind of treasure‘n needed more people. Joined ‘cause got nothin else and they said they needed someone to sit atop the mast an’ lookout.”

“He didn’t tell you where this ‘treasure’ was?” 

“Said he wanted t’blood the new ones first before takin us to it.” He replied

Her face formed into a scowl again,  “And this village, was it the first to be… blooded?” 

“Gathok said couldn’t go South,” Rif replied, “Nox’s made ‘em Ioninas too careful down there, Navori too much trouble. Needed something simpler he said.” 

“And the crew’s affliction?”

Rif’s eyes grew in fear, “They’s all kind of wrong. Only Garthok came into Glasserport to get more mates, wouldn’t let the rest ‘em come with him. Half of them were rabid, couldn’t speak, all looked like they wanted to eat me. Garthok kept promisin’ they got power from the treasure, just ‘gotta feed it’ he said. But I don’t have any idea where it came from, I swear on the forge-carer!” 

“Hm,” Diana grunted, dissatisfied. She let go of him fully and he crumpled to the ground. 

“Are… are you going to let us go now?” Asked one of the other six. 

“I said I would let him go. I never said anything about the rest of you,” she replied. She wanted them to fear her. Get them to tell her something she can go off of. “He did what I told him to do. Unless one of you can come up with something more, I will demonstrate again what happens to those who defy me.”

The woman with fire in her eyes spoke up first, “ _We’d rather die in battle like a true warrior of the North than grovel to you like a spring-green Avarosan,_ _you witch._ ” Her voice was still rough and sore-sounding from the burns on her neck. 

Diana crouched down next to one of the raiders, unearthly power flowing in her eyes as she looked at the man in front of her who had a far too angular face for his own good. “You will not die with honor nor glory, I can promise you that,” she said pressing the edge of her sword into his stomach.

“Please don’t, I think I can give you something!” Exclaimed the man, “I heard Garthok’s mate sayin’ he hoped get enough from this town to reach the Hirana straights. Didn’t say nothing else to any of us not already been there though!” He blubbered at her, tears forming dark spots on his shirt as they ran off his face. “Please don’t gut me.” 

A single grunt was Diana’s only reply as she stood up. In an instant, however, her vision was filled with vast rivers, mountains and pathways never seen by her eyes. Sheer cliffs of stone pillars surrounded a massive white temple that flowed from the very rocks themselves. No stone mason or metal tool carved this place, rather the mountains itself seemed to have twisted itself into shape of its own accord. Diana could smell the abundant red flowered plants growing off every rock face, heard the humming calls of the chickory birds nesting amongst the mountain crevices. She knew this place somehow, it was the Great Monastery of Hirana. Another gift from the divine. A direction, a place, a purpose.

Diana blinked away the flash of visions and looked over the Freljordians in front of her once again. She didn’t have any further use for them anymore. “You there, come,” she called to the Ionians still watching her a ways off. They all looked to each other in panic for a moment before finally coming forward slowly, figuring that if she wanted to hurt them there wouldn’t be much they could do. 

Diana spoke to them, “Here, they’re all that’s left. Do what you want with them.” She then proceeded to walk past them towards the town and the northern road. She didn’t know what she might find at Hirana, but determination filled her steps as she pressed onward. The guardsmen jumped out of her way as she passed by them. Terrified of even brushing up against their town’s savior. She might have been hurt by their reaction, but she was too engrossed in her goal to care of such things.

One of the Freljordians called out to her, struggling to speak now with a guardsman’s boot pressed into his back and his hands being tied behind him, “ _ You said you’d let us go, you bitch. _ ”  But Diana did not pause a single step for the now bound Freljordians. The Ionians may choose what justice they would like to use to deal with them, she had more important places she needed to be. 

The rest of the town was sure to have heard the sounds of her magic, possibly even seen the lights if they had peeked out through their shutters. If she stayed too much longer she’d have to deal with questions, stares, and attention she didn’t want. She had a duty and a goal in her head. She didn’t know this village either, so even if they were grateful to her their thanks would likely be stilted as they wondered if she would end up burning their town down instead of the raiders. Other towns had given her such of treatment before. 

Diana grabbed her discarded cloak on her way, putting it on as she walked. When she had pulled the cowl back over her head, she paused at a the feeling of being watched.  She realized that she was standing in front of the inn she had fled from earlier. The innkeeper that had tried keeping her company before was standing in the doorway. All her patrons had already left earlier at the sound of the warning bells. Diana stood there for a moment, staring back at the woman.

“Did you…” Tani began nervously before looking down at Diana’s side, “You’re bleeding.” Diana stared back at her confusedly before glancing down. Blood dripped from between the plates of her armor. The silver metal had repaired itself, but the same could not be said for the woman underneath it. She became aware of the stinging pain in her side, the burn of the still open wound. “Are you going to be okay?” 

Diana looked at her cautiously before giving a single nod of her head. She wasn’t worried about the cut, it would go away in a few days. All her wounds healed within the week of getting them. Her Mistress took care of those in Her care, but that didn’t mean She didn’t want them to learn from their mistakes. And pain is a sharp reminder to be better prepared next time.

Tani nodded a bit as she gathered the courage to ask the question she really wanted an answer to, “Did… did you help us?”

The silence dragged on between them as Diana considered an answer. “Yes,” she replied stiffly before turning around and heading back on the road.

“Wait,” Diana heard from behind her. She paused and turned her head to look at the innkeeper again, “thank you.” A small, shy smile was on her face as she looked at Diana hopefully. Diana grew uncomfortable under the woman’s gaze. “We never got each other our names before. Mine is Zhenya Tani. I’d very much like to know what yours is.” Diana’s cheeks grew hot, thankfully still hidden by the sides of her cowl. She paused for a moment, thoughts moving back and forth through her mind until she finally decided how to respond. 

“It’s Diana,” she replied so quickly that Tani almost didn’t catch it. She turned her head back again and hastily continued on. 

She chided herself for getting nervous like that. Like some naive little girl. It had been a long time since she had had to deal with childish, foolish, and unwelcome feelings like that. 

Not since  _ her. _

Diana shook her head to clear her mind as a determined scowl once again found its way onto her face. She looked up at the moon hanging in the sky, stars surrounding it like a crown around a prized jewel. This is what’s important, nothing else, she thought to herself.  _ I was chosen for this duty, so I will fight until the end. And nothing will get in my way _ . 

 


	3. Smooth Beginnings

The Solari often extolled that those who truly wanted to know themselves and their place in the universe should come and test themselves on the perilous slopes of Targon. Divine heroes were born from the struggle of the mountain, not from the outside world. It was a world of distractions and disconnection from the true light of the world, the Sun. Leona had believed that, took those lessons to heart and was filled with righteous resolve to defend those tenets and the holy mountain. She didn’t think much on what lay past the verdant foothills and the home of the Rakkor, having only known the familiar rocks and flowing slopes of Targon her entire life. What could she learn about herself elsewhere that the Mountain’s lessons could not illuminate? 

That was what Leona had once thought, and now she knew better. In fact, on the very first leg of her journey she had already learned something new about herself.

She learned that she fucking  _ hated _ sailing. 

Leona sat with her head in her hands inside the dark hull of the ship. Her eyes clenched shut as the swaying lanterns churned her stomach something fierce. A perpetual cold sweat covered her body and if it weren’t for the presence inside of her, her skin would probably be as pale as a mountain slope after a fresh winter snowstorm. The sailors had assured her that she would get used to it; they had said to her that she’s “just got to shake off those land-legs a bit and you’re goin’ to feel as right as travelling with the wind.” 

It would seem that the advice was false for after two weeks on this Sun forsaken nightmare of a craft, her relationship to the sea had barely improved. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the first few days, and luckily the sun could sustain her, otherwise any food might have ingested would have ended up in a bucket or over the sides. 

The boat made a sudden lurch to the side and Leona felt her stomach rise up into her throat. Her eyes snapped open and she bolted for the stairs up to the top deck. A few of the of the sailors glanced her way as she rushed to the ship’s railing. At this point they were accustomed to seeing her like this. Leona gave a few dry heaves over the edge but nothing really came up as there wasn’t much in there in the first place. Face red from exertion, the sickness eventually abated, but Leona remained staring at the water. The cool air and wind was a blessing on her strained face as she leaned against the railing with a cheek resting on the wood. 

Staring at the waves rushing past, she idly wondered how she could ever have been awed by the ocean. When Leona had reached the bottom of the foothills and overlooked the sea from atop a cliff, she had been struck by the endless blue stretching from horizon to horizon.  The fishing village below her had looked positively miniscule squeezed between the ascending mountains and the surrounding water. 

Now the ocean just made her sick. Never having seen a ship much less ridden on one was bad enough, but the constant pressure and distraction from the presence inside of her made it significantly worse. Pushing her mind and emotions this way and that with the boat doing the exact same thing with her body was a toxic combination. 

The misery of her current situation along with weeks of the unfamiliar made her long for home. She missed the solid rocks beneath her feet, sparring with Marcus the beneath the early morning sun, and the clear and cool winds of the mountain as opposed to the humid and salty winds of the ocean.  She missed the community, the pleasure in seeing her Ra-Horak inductees perfect a new formation, and getting knocked down when one of them is actually able to surprise her in a spar. The warm corner in the library she would go to when she needed to be alone with her thoughts or read a few of her favorite stories of Solari heroes. Leona even missed the priests’ sermons each day, her recent rocky relations with them aside.

The sailors she has been sailing with preached as well in their own ways. Speaking of the mysteries and grand tales of the seas. Great titans lurking beneath the depths and sinking ships in odd bargain arrangements. They told of how exactly to appease the fishmen of the sea so that they might help you if you have found yourself lost in unfamiliar waters. The most passionate reverence they had, however, was devoted solely for a Lady of the winds represented by a blue jay carving that adorned the ship’s mast.  

The Solari priests would have demanded that she correct these men and women on the falsehoods of their daemonic gods. All are simply distractions and falsehoods created to tempt people away from the sole power of the world. That was what the priests, especially Caelus, touted on and on about as she had prepared to leave the mountain. In a painfully obvious attempt to remind her of her duty to the Sun, the Order, and to bring the heretic to justice.  _ Duty to the Sun _ , Leona thought derisively. She had the Sun in her very mind and even she couldn’t say what her duty was to it. Just emotions, vague feelings, and visions lacking any context or explanations. 

She knew it had to do with a certain  _ heretic _ , but what that even entailed was lost to her. This woman, Diana, was not someone she had known. Heard of her was the greatest extent of Leona’s familiarity. The youngest to be inducted into the Order after an Elder had found her as a babe after a horrific storm and held in her parents’ lifeless arms. Leona had heard the Elders speak of her and her troublemaking. Constantly fighting with the priests over doctrinal teachings, sneaking out of the temple at night, and getting into fights with the other acolytes. 

Leona remembered how some of the Elder’s would speak of her. Some treated her with an amused exasperation. Elder Antonia and Balba would always say that the young are foolish, they question and are prone to distraction but they all outgrow it eventually. Others like Elder Decius didn’t believe in sparing the rod to those that flouted the divine laws of the Order. Discipline, not leniency was how we would ensure that we would be ready for when the Sun calls on us, he would say. Neither paths saved them though. They were all left as desiccated corpses on the floor of the ruined council chamber. All of the people who had believed in Leona, believed in her ability to protect them, and had saved her from execution at the hands of her family and tribe. 

The presence inside grew restless, anger and pain pouring through her blood. She gripped the railing tighter, wood creaking underneath her fingers. Leona tried to even out her breathing as images of burning fire, white light, and silver flashed behind her eyes. It called to her, pleaded with her to let her emotions go. To eviscerate any that hurt or defied her. 

A slap on her back broke her out of her descent. She whipped around and grabbed the offender by the front their shirt, lifting them up to meet her face. Her mind was still abuzz with violent rage fed by an angry deity, and all she saw when she opened her eyes was more blood, silver, and death. 

_ No! _ This was her mind, her body. She squeezed her eyes shut and blinked away the unwanted images until all she saw was a hairy little face looking back at her in surprise and fear. Kuwat, the ship’s quartermaster, struggled a bit in her grip. Being a full head and half shorter than most people meant that his legs dangled as he hung in Leona’s grip. 

“Whoa! Hold on their lady, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said quickly. His voice wavering a bit as he stared into Leona’s eyes and the burning fire within them. She shook her head a bit and took a long breath before calmly lowering the man back onto the deck. Leona chided herself for letting presence influence her actions like this. 

With a one more breath she looked into Kuwat’s eyes again, but this time without divine fire filling her gaze. An apologetic smile found its way onto her face, “You startled me, Kuwat. Forgive me for lashing out like that.” 

Taking things in stride, he gave Leona a broad grin, “Ha! You gave me scare right back, but no harm done. I’m small and sneaky, need it to catch some of these lazy oafs lying about when they should be on watch.” Kuwat called out to the rest of the crew that was on the deck. They returned his grin, none of them realizing that their quartermaster could have been a moment away from being skewered, burned, and flung into the sea. “It seems you still haven’t gotten your sea-legs yet, a woman doesn’t cling to the railing like you were doing if they weren’t spewing their guts.” Kuwat nodded at the the wooden edge of the ship and the brand new finger sized divets in the wood. Leona kept her smile plastered to her face, as she knew that sickness wasn’t the reason for the marks… at least this time it wasn’t the sickness. 

“No, and at this point I doubt I ever will get them. I just don’t think the ocean agrees with me.” she said to him. 

“You say she doesn’t agree with you, I say your a damn lucky charm,” he replied. “Been one of the smoothest voyages we’ve been on.” If this is what passes for smooth, Leona hoped she never had to experience what they considered rough. “I know you don’t think so, but we’ve got smooth seas, strong winds, and no pirates. Somethin’ out there’s looking out for you I bet. Maybe that Sun god you Targonians are always going on about.” 

She gave him a small grin to match his good natured smile. “Probably,” was her only reply to that. “Is there something I can help with?” 

“Well, I’ve got some good news for you from ol’ Grach on the scopes. We’ll be arriving in Mankhit on the western coast of Ionia by the end of the day. You can also tell by the gapons in the water, they never stray too far from the shores.” He pointed over the rail and into the churning ocean. Leona looked and saw squirming, rainbow studded eels following along with the ship. They skitted themselves around the ship’s hull, twirling amongst themselves, but not falling the least bit behind as the craft cut through the water. 

Leona genuinely smiled at a thought and she turned back to Kuwat. “You’re saying that my stomach might finally get some rest from all this rocking?”

“You might get a rest from the sea, but trust me, you’ll take one step on land and it’ll feel like the stormy waters. Nope, you’ll have to suffer a bellyache for a little longer I’m bettin’”

“As long as there’s an end in sight, I think I can handle it,” she replied, but it seemed that the ocean heard her boast and saw fit to test her resolve as the ship suddenly listed sharply to the starboard side. Leona’s smile fled her face and the color drained from her cheeks. Kuwat’s grin grew even larger at that, laughing sympathetically at her green gills. 

“Well, you just keep yourself rightside up the best you can. We’re almost there.” Leona tried to thank him, but another wave caused her stomach to lurch into her throat.  _ Sun above there’s not even anything in there to get sick over _ she thought tiredly. Her gut churned, pitching and rolling with the ship underneath her. Leona gave the man a nod and a quick pat on the shoulder before quickly moving her way to the very bow of the ship. 

The bow was one of the few places that didn’t immediately make her want to throw up everything she had ever eaten. The view kept her mind occupied waiting to see the first signs of land and the end to her torment. Right now she wanted nothing more than to see the Ionian coastline rising over the horizon. 

Leona leaned against the railing facing the eastern sky. She thought on her time since coming down the mountain. Those first few weeks after had been some of the hardest Leona had been through since first being chosen to become a member of the Order. It had been easy to keep her body busy and her mind off of who probably should have been her main focus. Constantly traveling to defend disparate villages from attacks, safeguarding the harvests, working with the new Elders to reestablish some semblance of normalcy. Never resting, always fighting, all the while surrounded by people who cried to her to leave them, to seek out  _ justice _ . 

But she couldn’t leave them. Not in the state they were in when she returned from the Mountain’s peak. Leona remembered fear and anger from all of them. The presence inside of her tapping into their emotions and passions and filling her with all their pain, so much pain. It was a white hot spike through her heart. She had to stay, to give them hope, protection, and time to heal. 

And she gave it to them. Leona did everything she could to get the Order back into working order, and if that meant dealing with the new cadre of elected Elders, then so be it. Most of them, however, came to their positions from rage and hurt. For every one like Elder Coilene of the Order Masons and her never ending brightness to match her blonde hair, there were two like Caelus. Confused and angered by the idea of ensuring their people’s safety and health before going off to the other side of the world in search of  _ justice _ . 

She now thought of the woman she was here in this foreign land to find. She remembered how she returned to the temple several months after having gone missing. She was beaming as she walked through the stone halls, unabashed excitement pouring from her. Leona had been cautious of the strange markings adorning the silver mail and cuirass she had worn. And that huge blade she carried, gripping it as if it were more precious than anything else under the Sun’s grace. Leona had felt the very air around her buzz with energy. At the time she had thought that it was simply her nerves, but now she knew better. 

The presence inside pushed forward again, showing her images of the moment things changed. The fire and the agonizing screams of the Elders as they were ripped apart. Leona’s armor red hot and blistering her skin. Ribs cracking as she crashed against a wall. More memories came to her: waking up to an acolyte’s panicked face, the smell of blood and smoke filling each breath as the temple burned around them, cries of anguish from the wounded and dying, her own skin on fire, the flash of silver eyes, anger, rage, racing after silver footsteps around the mountain, and then finally  _ the climb _ . 

Leona’s breathing grew faster as her mind was assaulted by the scenes. She could feel the blisters forming on her skin, the tears streaming down her face as she ran outside the temple and chased fading trails of silver, the strain in her legs as she climbed the Mountain, and the freezing wind against her face. 

The Solari had given her a home and a purpose after her own family forsook her and one of her childhood friends almost succeeded in trying to kill her. She couldn’t fail them again like she did on that apocalyptic day in the temple chambers. She had to keep them safe, but every night the celestial aspect gave her visions of their destruction. Strange and foreign cities burning, Mount Targon itself crumbling to pieces, and her friends and loved ones consumed by a pulsing, swelling, seething mass. Monsters in the darkness and an unnatural violet glow reigning where the Sun’s light once stood. Gnashing teeth and growing tendrils ripping her friends and family to pieces. She saw their faces contort in agony as perverse magics filled their broken bodies and corrupted them into the very beings that slaughtered them. Unable to stop any of it. The very air pushing her down, pressing her, drowning her in its power…

“Stop!” Leona yelled out loud to the company of rushing waves and the calls of birds overhead. The temporal partner didn’t stop though as it is nothing if not persistent. Reminding Leona of what has been, could be, and still as unclear as ever. No specifics, just feelings, emotions, and visions. Her head clears slightly and she begins to hear the ocean again instead of the roar of corruption and death. 

Leona opened her eyes to the bright sun above and the splintered wood of the ship’s railing under her palms. Kuwat won’t like that. Another section of the ship she’s accidentally damaged. She sighed and leaned over what remained of the railing and tried to spot the land she could truly begin her search. The search for the woman that killed her family, the one who destroyed her home, and the one who might still want to strike a final blow. 

But Diana might be the only one who can help her save them and everyone else. 

  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so much shorter and took so much longer. Life got extremely busy and I found myself with a sever case of writers block. I decided to post what I had gotten written down and happy with.


	4. Dreams of the Sun and Investigations of the Moon

_ Heavy panting was the only sound in the air for the man leaning unsteadily against the broken piece of wall. Every part of his body burned of fresh wounds, broken bones, and deep bruises already starting to form on every piece of sun touched umber skin. His helmet had long since been knocked off his head, and the rest of his golden armor was in a similarly sorry state as its wearer. A line of blood poured down his face from a gash above his eyes that spread all the way from one side of his head to the other. It blurred his vision and covered his lips in a dark crimson.  _

_ A rush of sickness and bile rose through his throat as though molten lead filled his stomach and burning him from the inside out. He grimaced and felt the world tilt and himself fall from the wall keeping him up till he was crouched on his hands and knees, spitting up bile and blood onto the black stone street below him.  _

_ After some retching, he was eventually able to get his bearings enough to wipe the blood from his eyes. With clear sight again he looked up from his hunched position at the devastation around him. Buildings and houses were now in shambles around him. These were once dwellings made from blocks of carved ice, each the deepest blue of overturned icebergs. Flowing glyphs intricately adorned each wall and surface as though carved by the howling northern winds themselves as opposed to any human tool. This was once a simple Frostguard settlement, the home of those reserved and suspicious people of the north. But where there was once numerous people etching out their harsh lives amongst these frozen walls, there were now only two whose lights had not yet been extinguished.  _

_ Bodies encased in golden armour were littered around him. All his friends and comrades who had sworn to follow him all the way to the end of time when the Sun itself goes dark. Junia was as brash as she was kind hearted, but now she laid lifeless on her side with both of her legs severed off below the thighs. T’Marko was a quiet and reserved man, but hesitant he was not for there was no one who was more willing to throw themselves into danger to protect the defenseless. Now his body leaned against a chunk of rubble, his skin a blackened mess of charred and scorched meat. Young Naiobe had once wanted to become a scribe, but his crusading call had inspired her to pick up the spear. She had looked positively ridiculous the day she had pleaded to join him, her curly chestnut hair spilling out of a helmet two sizes too big for her. She was now pinned, unmoving to a far wall by a large chunk of ice.  _

_ Amongst the bodies of friends and companions were the Freljordian people of the settlement. Once a devoted and prosperous people, he remembered how he and his friends had found them here. Cold and lifeless as the land in which they made their home. Fathers clutching children, young and old taken from this world in brutal carnage.  _

_ Then came the battle. _

_ The beleaguered warrior shook his head and pulled himself up by a wayward spear shaft. He walked steadily over the bodies of the slain to the center of the settlement where he would find his foe and his crusade might finally end. At the center of the carnage was a lone spire rising high into the air. This structure was not made from ice like the rest of the settlement, but of the blackest stone that seemed to consume all light that touched it. It hurt to look at, as if he were dangling over the edge of one of the Freljord’s mighty crevices and staring into his own death. A yawning maw, a dark scar against the snow white of the land. He focused instead on the figure laying at the bottom of the monument as he continued to limp forward.  _

_ Bright silver stood out against the black which was marred only by the stark red that pooled around it.  _ He _ was there, leaning upright against the stones and watching patiently as he continued toward him. His enemy looked calm and utterly nonplussed by the simple iron sword he had lodged in his side or the unnatural way his legs now bent.  _

_ “Not used to getting hurt this badly, hmm? Never seen you bleed this much,” the silver armoured man said to him, “That tough skin of yours is matched only by your thick skull.” The indifference and scorn dripping from his voice would have fooled most, but he knew him better than that. He could hear the twinge of pain and fear underneath those pointed words.  _

_ “I’ve bled plenty. You just never saw it before,” he replied, “I’m glad you are able to find some satisfaction so close to death. Lord knows you don’t deserve it.”  _

_ “Heh, ‘Lord knows’, yes they would know wouldn’t they,” his cocksure grin faltered for a moment into a grimace as a greater stream of blood started flowing from his wound. “What is your Lord saying to you right now anyway? I’d love to know. You always kept it to yourself no matter how much I asked.”   _

_ “You fought against and defamed the Lord for so long and now you want to hear what they have to say?” He threw away the spear butt and kneeled down till he was face to face with the dying man. With one hand he gripped a silver shoulder, and with the other he grabbed the blade still embedded in his flesh. He twisted it slowly and watched his enemy’s face contort in pain. The presence inside of him grew warm and pulsed, but for what he wasn’t sure. What he was sure of, however, was the pleasure he got when he saw the murderer of so many of his friends writhe under his grip. _

_ “You weren’t always such a sadist,” he replied through gritted teeth, “you used to always be so much more pliant when we…” his words were cut off by a forceful jerk forward and back, slamming his silver-haired head against the stone spire.  _

_ “Be quiet. Do not speak as if you mean anything to me, to anyone. You will be forgotten. Your name will die here with the innocents you murdered.” He continued to push and twist the blade into his side.  _

_ “‘Innocent’, ha!” he replied with a grunt of pain. “Worshipers of lies and murder, corrupted by schemes and black magics. They seem innocent to all, but these Frostguard hide a deep sickness. The world is well rid of them.” _

_ “And that child there,” he gestured to a small form staring lifelessly into the sky, “the world is well rid of her?” The question was punctuated by an additional twist of the knife.  _

_ “No, the world is not, but sometimes it doesn’t give us a choice,” he said with a gasp of pain.  _

_ “Only you would say that.” _

_ “And only you would refuse to see the truth,” the dying man spat back.  _

_ “The only truth here is that your war in this land ends here,” he said pulling the sword out of the man’s body. _

_ The man bleeding out gave him a quizzical look. “It will never end, my friend,” he sighed. _

_ “You should at least be glad your fanatical followers did not follow you here on this folly, else they would have died by my hand as well.” Standing up once again he gripped the sword ready to deliver a final strike.  _

_ “You will not hurt them, Jeran,” he paused at the assured tone in his voice. Looking down, the man’s glare was fierce and made even harsher by the inhuman silver of his eyes. “I won’t let you.” _

_ A chill ran down the golden warrior’s spine and the presence inside of him began screaming, beating against the confines of his soul. The air grew warm and thick around them like a stifling bog. “What have you done, Yros?”  _

_ “What I came here to do,” he said, “you never were very good at feeling magic even if it was happening right next to you.” Jeran looked down at his enemy’s hand resting on the black obelisk. Small cracks spread out across the stone from his hand, now shimmering with power. “I didn’t want to cleanse this place like this, but then again I don’t usually get exactly what I want,” he said, a delirious grin broadening across his face. “It doesn’t always have to be so messy, but then again, messy can be useful.” _

_ The cracks on the structure spread and grew larger till every inch of it was covered by a spider web of shattered stone. From them came a violet light and a horrible screech that didn’t belong to any creature of this world. It vibrated his very blood. The light grew brighter and brighter, until Jeran felt as though his muscles were being pulled off his bones and his mouth grew full of the sharp taste of iron.  _

_ But a silver light began to outshine the sickening force. It flowed upward from Yros’ hand;  through every opening in the black stone until the structure shined brighter than the midday sun on a field of pure white snow.  _

_ Silence and silver light was all that was left. However, the golden warrior could still see his enemy below him, but was met with a look he had not seen in many seasons. Affection and love filled his gaze where hatred and violence had once been found.  _

_ “May the Sun grant you strength and the Moon grant you clarity in whatever follows this world. Goodbye, my friend.” His hand fell from its place on the obelisk and the ground beneath began to tremble.  _

_ “Yros, no!” He lunged forward, but the light slammed into him first. Burning agony spread across his skin, and striking through to his very bones. The Aspect inside felt it too and cried out in hot, scorching anger. _

_ He could feel his eyes being gouged out by piercing light.  _

_ He couldn’t breathe. _

_ He couldn’t see. _

_ He tried calling out for help. _

_ He reached out for one break from this torment as his soul was ripped from his body. _

_ He screamed with what little strength he had left. _

_ He screamed, and screamed, and screamed… _

 

* * *

 

Leona woke up gasping, every inch of her skin burning and sweat saturating her bedclothes. Her vision was still clouded in white light, but she could feel someone shaking her shoulders violently. Struggling to breathe, Leona struck out at her unknown attacker and jerked away. 

Her mind was a buzz with the celestial’s turbulent emotions. Anger and rage were there as always, but behind it was sadness and grief all swirling together in an incomprehensible whirlwind that made it feel like her head was being split open on a blacksmith’s anvil. She laid out, blind and panicking, trying to catch her breath. 

“Please, please…” she mumbled to the presence inside, herself, and anything else in this world that could make it stop. Minutes passed and heavy pants eventually gave way. Her vision began to clear, her skin turned from a burning fire to a broad warmth, and her head returned to a bearable state. She could hear her name being called, muffled and distant, and for a moment Leona had a blissful, delirious dream. 

She was in her bed at the Grand Temple, the warmth on her skin was simply from the low burning hearth and the cocoon of furs on her bed. She had simply overslept, and Elder Eione was calling her name. She would wake up to join her family for morning prayers and she would revel in their companionship. She would listen to the sermons and feel the power of the Sun’s holy light as it glittered through the crystalline glass of the sermon hall and bathed the room in shimmering colors that Leona had never known could have existed in her life before the Order. Afterward in the hearth hall, the room with would be filled with the smells of warm bread and stew with the sounds of warmth laughter and brotherhood. Elder Samun would complain exasperatedly to her as he always did about having to feed her Ra-Horak’s prodigious appetites and how there won’t be enough food for the rest of them. They would all be alive. They would all be happy. 

But that was a stupid dream, and one Leona was rudely pulled from as she came to her surroundings. The bright canvas awning above filtered the early morning light in greens, yellows, reds, and blues, bathing the inside of the cart in a cacophony of colors. Instead of soft furs and a stone bed, she was covered by a simple felt cloth on the creaky wooden floorboards of the jostling carriage. 

“Leona?” she heard.  _ That’s right, someone else is here _ she thought to herself. Opening her eyes, Leona saw the young face of Jirulla, the merchant’s daughter, was looking at her concernedly on the other side  of the carriage. Her father was holding her tightly and eyed Leona suspiciously. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, just a… bad dream,” she lied. “Did I hurt you?” she asked noticing how protectively the father held the young girl. 

“No, you didn’t hurt me.  _ Fair _ , please. I’m fine, truly,” she said detangling herself from her father. “If I can handle the markets, I can handle a little shove.” The girl gave her father and Leona a wide, reassuring grin, but it did little to assuage Leona’s churning stomach at her actions.

“No, please. I shouldn’t have shoved you,” Leona said apologetic eyes, “I’m sorry, and I hope that the both of you might be able to forgive me.” 

Jirulla’s father grunted in reply. The Aspect inside of Leona allowed her to feel the distrust he felt for her, a dark shadow blanketing his thoughts toward the foreign woman. Her face burned with shame. He made his way back to the front to return to the ox that was pulling them along. Leona was left alone with Jirulla who spoke up cheerfully. 

“Apology accepted. I should have known better than to try and shake you awake like that,” she said with a smile. “My  _ O-fa  _ once said that waking someone like that is like trying to play with a  _ shimmerwisp _ . You’re just going to end up in a bad place. 

“Your uh…  _ O-fa _ sounds very wise,” she replied although she was unsure what exactly an  _ O-fa _ was, or a  _ shimmerwisp _ for that matter. 

“Would you like to talk about it? I know I always feel better after a bad dream by talking with my father,” the girl asked.

_ It wasn’t exactly a nightmare _ , Leona thought. It was much too real to be a simple dream, and it certainly wasn’t the first one she’s had since coming down from the Mountain’s peak. Coming to Ionia, however, they have taken on a much more  _ specific  _ quality. Before they were often seemingly random visions, some pleasant but most horrific. Showing her scenes of death and corruption at the hands of twisting tendrils, dripping claws, and gnashing teeth. Now they just showed her memories of lives she hadn’t lived along with a singular presence that she knew all too well. One with eyes and hair of cold silver. 

“No, I would not,” she said a little more forcefully than she intended, but Jirulla continued on unperturbed. 

“I’ve seen you have nightmares before. The Elders say that dreams can be the Spirits’ way of revealing the truth. You shouldn’t disrespect the Spirits when all they want is to help you achieve balance in your life.”

“I don’t think your Ionian Spirits want anything to do with me,”  _ or rather my own divine “spirit” would not want anything to do with them _ , she thought. 

“Do your people not seek balance where you’re from?” she asked.

“Life is harsh where I’m from. I don’t know what ‘balance’ is supposed to mean, but for most, everything must make way for dedication and survival,” Leona replied. “The Mountain tests us, and we either live by the grace of our God or we do not.” 

“Sounds awful!” Jirulla said excitedly. 

“It’s definitely difficult, but the Mountain can be beautiful too. As the sun retreats for the night, it bathes the sterling rocks in beautiful warm colors. Giving everyone one last gift before the coming darkness. The peaks rise so high that the clouds themselves twist and break around them,” Leona said with a faraway look in her eyes. “Great causeways dot the landscape built for the steps of greater beings than you or I along with relics from the heavens above that had fallen to our humble plane. You haven’t lived until you see the great shifting mountains of the  _ Graici  _ valley either, where you can see the very stones themselves stretch and bend before your eyes as they reach up to the heavens above. And the sight of the spring thaw giving way to the first sprigs of green for the verdant fields of purple  _ aihu _ flowers is a blessing after months of cold and snow.” 

The little girl looked at Leona with amazement in her eyes. “One day I’ll inherit the merchant trade from  _ Fair, _ and maybe then I’ll go to far away places and see such things.” Jirulla replied. 

“Well you won’t find very much money to be made on the Mountain, I’m afraid. We have little use for such luxuries as these,” Leona said patting a wooden crate to the side filled with beautifully embroidered silk. She had seen some of what Jirulla and her father sold, and while she wasn’t one to care much about precise stitchings, the incredible craftsmanship of these Ionians was something to be admired. Leona had been more interested, however, in what the warriors carried in this foreign land. Targonian weapons honored the holy carvings and the divine patterns of the Mountain’s stones. Here in Ionia, their weapons and armor honored great scenes with breathtakingly accurate pictures of epic battles, beautiful landscapes, and terrifying beasts. Even the lowliest guards and uncouth vagabonds carried weapons and wore armor that would be more akin to a pieces of art than instruments of war.  

“As a trader sometimes money isn’t the most important thing. My  _ Emai _ used to say that balance can be found in trade as well; you have something I want and I have something you want, and each are better off because of it,” she began, “doesn’t have to be money. Sometimes seeing new and exciting things can be worth a trade.”

“You certainly have told me a lot about what other people say on things,” Leona said with a smile. Poking a bit at how the young girl speaks of others. 

Jirulla’s face grew a little flushed, painting her olive cheeks a rosy red. She returned Leona’s smile with a bashful one of her own. “They always say, er… I mean, we try to learn and respect what our Elders and Masters say. Do your people have Elders?” she asked. 

Leona’s smile faltered at the question. She was reminded of helpful advice, proud words, and warm faces. Faces that had plucked her from death’s door at the hands of her own tribe and family, and elevated her to the duty and responsibility of the Order. Her mind went to the silver presence that took them all away from her, but instead of seeing the face of the woman she was searching for, Leona she saw every single silver-eyed man and woman that appeared in her dreams. An untold number of lives and histories all ending in blood and death. She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to clear her head of the images. It would do no good to think about that right now with Jirulla waiting for an answer. 

“Yes, we have Elders too, young one, and they are very important to us,” Leona said quietly. A concerned look passed over the girl’s face and she opened her mouth, ready with another question, but they were interrupted by Jirulla’s father calling from the front of the carriage.

“We are coming up on the village,” he said, “Jiru, get the merchandise chests ready for display.” Jirulla looked back and forth between her father and Leona. Not wanting to let things go, but she sighed and went to work moving items and crates to prepare for the market. Leona got up and began to help her, easily handling the boxes that the younger girl found too heavy. Their work punctuated only by the sound of the cart’s wheels as they rolled over the cobbled road. 

Finishing up, Leona pushed aside the canvas separating the front of the carriage to the back and saw the small fishing village over the head of the oxen pulling them. The presence inside of her twined and twisted in her mind at the sight. She could feel the Aspect pulling her forward, compelling her to what seemed like a rather droll little town. Perhaps there would be something for her to find amongst the people living here. Something to help her search for the one that reappeared in her blood filled dreams every night. 

 

* * *

 

They rode straight into the town’s market square. A grand willow grew through the center  and covered the space in a canopy of green drooping leaves. Stretches of colorful cloth were hung from the tree creating a veritable maze of cloth separated stalls that matched the twisting branches above them. Only a few townsfolk and two guards were meandering around this early in the morning. Leona helped her merchant guides unload the chests full of their various wares before she returned herself to the back of the carriage to change out of her bed clothes and into her armor. She strapped her shield and sword to her back and slid on a supple leather cloak, hiding the radiant plates or her divine armor. 

Finished and packed, she went out to thank Jirulla and her father for showing her way through eastern mountain passes. The young girl gave her an enthusiastic hug and told her she hoped that whatever path she took would lead her heart and soul to finding true balance. 

The girl’s father, as stoic as ever, simply nodded at her when Leona gave her thanks. Rummaging through one of her packs she pulled out a thin bar of gold the size of her hand. His eyebrows shot up as she clasped his hand and placed the bar in his grip. The Solari on the Mountain didn’t need or use money. Often enough, however, the foreign war parties would often bring gold and treasures with them when they attempted to defile the Mountain. The Solari may not have a need for gold to purchase or trade, but they weren’t a people to waste things either. If Leona’s memory served her right, this particular piece of gold came from a war party she slaughtered some months ago who came onto the mountain covered head to toe in blue paint and nothing else. How they survived Targon’s weather was beyond Leona’s knowledge, but whatever it was, it didn’t protect them from the spears of her Ra-Horak. 

She gave him a final smile and squeeze on the shoulder as he looked at her in disbelief over the gift, and she left her travelling companions behind to search the town. Leona went looking for what she had found to be the best place to search for the kind of information she needed: a bar. As it would happen, asking local magistrates, priests, and other notables about wandering foreign women, wearing armor made of pure moonlight, and summoning white mage fire was not the best method of getting help or direction. All she got from that strategy were patronizing smiles, suspicious looks, and in one unfortunate situation, accusations of being a spy for Tyrants. 

Leona could feel the distrust some of these Ionians had for foreigners. It reeked off many of them, a bruising black and purple underneath their seemingly serene control. With or without the presence inside of her she could see the brutal scars of war and battle on many of their minds. Nervous glances at her sword and shield, grips tightening when she approached, and young eyes that were hardened along, gazes that had seen more than their years might belie. Some of these people would have been able to survive life on the Mountain; Leona saw their strength and resolve. Others, however, were shattered things. Covering their fear with hatred and disgust. 

Much like her own people, Leona thought, having lost a serenity and security that had been taken for granted. If these Tyrants that they spoke of desired to rock the Ionians to their core, then they succeeded. The children of Targon knew better than anyone else that being wrought so low can mean a miserable death. But they also knew that women and men freed from all bounds and expectations could bring down mountains. 

With these issues plaguing her search, Leona learned that she needed two things: a place where people might be willing to listen to her, and a place where news of strange happenings flowed. For if an Aspect of Targon was wandering about the Ionian countryside, rumors and tales were sure to spread. The warming drinks of these places loosened tongues and brought forth the wildest stories which Leona sought after. Of course, however, she had to dig through mountains of worthlessness and inanity to find even a single morsel of a potential lead. 

All the tales she had heard had now brought her to this small village nestled between chilly mountains and the wide eastern sea. The land reminded her much of the great foothills of the Rakkor, but while those mountains were imposing and stretched by the brutal magics of the divines, these were striking pillars that rose as though built by some grand architect. Picturesque and flowing if still rugged to the average travelers. 

She had met a wandering monk of some Ionian order she could not pronounce who took more to drink than she did to prayers or sage wisdom. Still, a few expensive bottles of wine later, she had begun to speak of the great Spirits of this land. The monk had told her of how the land itself repels those who wish it ill. Twisting trees hiding leading invaders into hidden pitfalls, unsuspecting flowers releasing deadly toxins against raiders who ventured too far from the safety of the oceans, and torrential rains that drowned and washed away entire armies.

None of this caught Leona’s attention, however, and just as she was about to abandon the monk, she had begun to speak of a great spirit that had recently burned a party of northern raiders with great bouts of fire. How a pale being of the night came to the defense of an insignificant little village before vanishing. She went on and slurred about how this being crushed their longships before slaying their monstrous leader in single combat. 

Leona had felt as though this story was the best lead she had gotten since she first arrived in Ionia. With another bottle of Zhyuni wine and a little bit of gold, she was able to get the location of the village from the monk before setting out to find more sober direction and travel arrangements. 

The village was unimpressive as far as Ionian cities went. There were several homes and buildings that appeared as though the trees themselves grew into shape to accommodate the occupants. Custom glass and frames were were fitted into the natural gaps in the trunks and branches to form oddly shaped windows and doors. Leona had seen many homes like this in her travels, but this village also included houses built from simple cut wood. The flowing styles these Ionians seemed to prefer - which were naturally found in the homes of the former type - were instead artificially carved. 

Leona’s search eventually yielded a building larger than the others, and a lone sign that marked it as an inn. She thought that there being only one would at least make things easier, and she was glad that it was still just shy of midday. Rumors and stories had gotten her this far, but now she needed more sober answers, and innkeepers were always good for that kind of information when required. 

Entering the inn, Leona saw that she was correct, there were at most three other patrons in the wide room built to accommodate several dozen. Two sat together in the corner playing some game of multicolored stones, and another was slumped over a corner table snoring lightly. 

“Hey!” a call came from behind the bar counter. Leona turned her head and scanned for the person speaking. She didn’t see anyone until a young boy with curly red hair jumped up and over the counter, bounding over to her. He wore a simple but obviously ill-fitting brown apron that went all the way down to his shins. He managed to keep himself from tripping over it as he ran his way over. 

With only one near fall, he stood beaming in front of her, a broad grin on his face. “Welcome, traveller!” he said. “How can we help ya’? Need a meal? Somethin’ to drink? Need a room?” The little boy’s excitement practically exuded off of him. He spoke with a heavy accent very obviously not from anywhere in Ionia. 

“Well, I was actually hoping for some conversation if you have any of that laying around,” she said to him returning his smile. 

“You ain’t Ionian are ya’?” he asked, “Don’t talk like anyone I ever heard. That armor you got ‘s weird too. Where you from?” 

Leona laughed a little at his directness. “No, I’m not from this land, and I can tell that you aren’t either,” she said, “I come from the far west. Where are you from?”

“I’m from the land made by Ornn hisself. Glasserport in the Freljord.”

“Well, then you are very far from home. How did you find yourself in Ionia?”

His grin fell from his face and he began to look a little nervous. “I um, don’t uh…” he stammered. Leona didn’t expect a reaction like that, but before she could ask him anything further there was a shout from a back room.

“Hrif? Where did you put the Raikoni peppers? We can’t make fried fire-fruits without them.” A young woman with night black shoulder length hair came walking into the hearth room. “I swear on the Spirits if you ate them all again I’ll have you cleaning Elder Carula’s boat for the next few…” she trailed off at the sight of Leona standing at the door. “Oh, a new guest! Did you offer a drink to her, Hrif?”

“Ya, but she said she don’t want nothin’,” he replied back. 

“ _ Doesn’t want anything _ ,” the woman corrected him lightly before looking back at Leona and giving her a friendly smile, “Why don’t you let me take care of you? I’m sure we have something you’ll like. Sit, sit, please.” She waved her hand at one of the open chairs around the bar. “Hrif, get a pot of tea brewing for our newest guest.”

“But she said don’t want nothin’,” he said indignantly. 

“It doesn’t matter, Hrif. She is a guest here to our town. It would be rude to offer her nothing,” she said to the boy. He gave the woman a confused look before grabbing an iron kettle and trudging over to the low fire burning in the center of the room. “You must forgive him, he’s still learning that to run an inn you have to be a gracious host. My name is Zhou Tani, but you can just call me Tani. Welcome to my humble little home.” She gave Leona a beaming smile, setting her hands down on the countertop. Leona could feel the genuine emotion from the woman, and the Aspect inside of her reveled in it, relaxing her mind. 

“Thank you, Tani. And the boy is perfectly alright. I’m used to strong wills like his, I find it refreshing. My name is Leona,” she replied with a small grin of her own. 

“Now, there must be something you want if you came all this way to grace us with your pretty face,” Tani said with a wink. Leona could feel a soft pink flare of emotion spring up in the young woman. She resisted the urge to let any reaction or surprise show on her face before continuing on. People were a lot more forward with those kinds of things off the slopes of Targon, she supposed. Even the Rakkor weren’t always this fast and direct, and many of them die before the age of 30. 

“Yes, I want to hear some stories, do you think you could help me?” 

“Conversation is always free, Leona. Especially for dashing travellers such as yourself,” she leaned over and rested her head in one of her palms. “I know plenty of Ionian folktales if that piques your interest,” she said in what was practically a purr, “I could tell you about the lovers of Puboe, frozen eternally together on the icy northern shores so they could be with the sea they loved almost as much as each other.” The innkeep’s free hand reached down and dragged her fingers languidly across the surface of the counter, not once breaking eye contact with the woman across from her. 

Leona let a single brow quirk up before a loud clatter interrupted them. They both turned their heads to the side to see that Hrif had placed a tray of cups and a steaming teapot on the counter. He gave Tani an exaggerated roll of his eyes for which she responded with a little huff and a chuckle before forcefully ruffling the boy’s red curls. Leona watched him as he put up a bit of a struggle against the innkeeper’s amused admonishment, but she could feel the spark of mirth and affection within him. 

“I’m sure those stories are wonderful, but I was looking for something a little more specific,” Leona said. 

“Uh huh, and what might that be?” the innkeep replied as she set about preparing the tea for her guest; lifting the pot and slowly pouring the rich smelling liquid through a little mesh screen into a few glasses.

“I was hoping to hear a bit more about these spirits I’ve heard people talking about.” Tani hummed in response, her attention focused solely on placing a few pieces of sweetbread on the tea trey. “I had heard that a few pirates had a brush in with a spirit in this very village a while back, could you tell me more on that?”

Tani froze in place for a moment before finishing her presentation and sliding a cup and a little plate of treats in between the two of them. Leona could see a tightness in the woman’s movements, a suspicion behind her eyes, and her senses allowed her to feel a nervousness that she was trying to keep hidden. “There’s not really anything to talk about,” the woman lied. “Some pirates came, we fought them off. What’s there to tell?” She took a breath and looked Leona in her eyes, “Think you might have listened to too many rumors told over too many drinks.” 

Leona frowned, a scowl creasing her features. She sensed the lie within the woman and the presence inside her trembled in anger at the perceived disrespect. “Is that so…” she said. Opening up her senses a bit more, Leona felt a sharp fear from the two of them. Glancing down she saw Hrif looking nervously between herself and the innkeep. “Well, I heard that you all had some help; that some spirit of the night destroyed a score of raiders and burning them in a maelstrom of white fire. That would be quite an exaggeration from a just a boring little attack.” 

“Why are you so interested in wild rumors and the tales of fools? Ionia has plenty of creatures we wouldn’t bat an eye to, but that outsiders like you would find unbelievable. Here, have some tea, relax, and I can tell you about some of them,” Tani said giving her a fake smile. Leona could feel fear in her as well. Not quite as bright and sharp as the boy; rather, it was old and burned low. Something similar she felt in many people from this land. A scar covering wounds inflicted by violence and loss. 

The presence inside of her grew angrier by the minute and it began slip into her mind. Leona could feel her own temper and annoyance rise. A haze filled her vision and clouded her thoughts. She slammed her fist on the countertop, and a divine fire bled into her eyes causing Tani to step back a bit. “Don’t lie to me,” Leona cut. Her voice was low and serious, and her mind was a buzz with a God’s anger. 

Wide eyed, the innkeep looked straight into Leona’s eyes alight with magic, and took a steady breath before speaking up. “Please,” she said, “we don’t want any trouble. We just want to be left alone.” Her voice was nervous, but still held strong as she pleaded with the woman with a veritable balefire in her gaze. Leona closed her eyes and pushed the Aspect’s wrath back down, and quelling its push into her emotions. It acquiesced and Leona’s mind cleared once more. She opened her eyes once again their normal dark amber. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten angry like that,” she began, “I don’t plan on hurting anyone. All I want is some information on what happened here.” Leona looked down and saw Hrif as white as a snowdrift with fists clenched and whole body trembling. “I’ll even pay you for your help, and then I’ll be on my way. I swear on the Sun’s judgement that no harm will come to this town.”

Tani stared back at Leona, considering her words. After a moment she glanced around to see that the two patrons had abandoned their game and were now looking straight at her with concerned faces. She waved her hand at them dismissively and they slowly turned back around. Tani looked back at Leona, “and if I say I won’t help you? What then?”

“My answer would be the same, I’ll leave you alone and find someone else in town who will tell me. I’m sure there’s someone else who would like to earn some gold” she responded simply, “No harm will come to anyone, I swear.” Tani stared at her for a long time without saying a word. Leona could feel her suspicion and distrust, but eventually she gave her a hesitant nod of her head. 

“What happened here?” Leana started. 

“Raiders. Something like seventy of them from the Freljord,” she started. “We thought this village would be too secluded and small to get any attention, so we only had few guards and soldiers. We didn’t have much hope.” Leona nodded. On the Mountain every abled bodied person learned to fight. Both in reverence of the Gods, but also for more practical reasons; treasure hunters and daemons from beyond this world were always a threat. Safety was not an assumption you could make on the mountain, but the rest of the world seemed content to run the risk sometimes. 

Tani paused and looked down at the boy beside her. He was trembling and staring at the ground. She reached an arm around his shoulders and rubbed his arm comfortingly. “This  woman with eyes of glowing silver fought them and saved us all.” Leona’s pulse rose at her words. 

“This woman, did you to catch her name? 

“Why are you so interested in her? Did she do something wrong?” the innkeep said. Leona kept her face passive, but her sword hand hidden behind the counter clenched tightly. 

“If this is who I’m looking for, then I just need to speak with her,” that was almost the truth Leona thought. Depending on what Diana said would determine what she would do with her afterward. “The person I’m looking for is named Diana.” Tani’s eyes focused at the mention of her name and Leona could feel a flurry of emotions churning within the innkeeper's mind. “So she was here then,” Leona said under her breath. A great wave of relief flowed through her as for the first time in weeks she finally felt like she might have actually found something to follow more than whispered rumors.  

“Not all. She spared a few including Hrif here,” she replied. 

“You were one of the raiders?” Leona asked. Even amongst the harsh realities of the Mountain, only the most desperate of the Rakkor tribes would actively put a child as young as him in battle. Training, hunting, and protecting the  _ Tamu _ flocks maybe, but certainly not as a part of a war party. 

Hrif nodded at the question, but refused look Leona in her eyes. She could feel a deep shame and remorse in him. A sickly green and black filling her mind when she looked within him. “And you took him in afterward?” she directed to the young woman.

“He was all alone. It would’ve been cruel just to throw him in prison. Besides, I needed a little helper around here,” she replied with a soft smile at the boy. “The rest of the survivors we sentenced to labor. Repairing houses, farming, things like that. Well, except one. There was one woman who kept attacking us and trying to escape so we had to send her to the prison in Xianju.” 

“I’m surprised your people were so lenient,” Leona said. Raiders would sometimes come to the mountain in search of treasure, and bringing them into the fold after defeating them was seldom an option. The people of the Mountain welcomed those who came for enlightenment or to brave the Ascent, but there was little mercy for those who came with the intention to defile Targon or its people. 

“If we can help it, we’d rather not have to kill anyone,” Tani continued. “Too much blood and death leaves the spirit bruised and hurting. Besides, most of them were just as disturbed by the other members of their group as Hrif here.”

“They were gonna’ turn me into a monster if the silver lady hadn’t stopped ‘em. Somthing was wrong with ‘em, but the lady said she ‘cleansed’ them of it,” Hrif said with shaking shoulders. Leona frowned, she didn’t like the sound of that. 

“What do you mean they were monsters?” she asked.

“They were growin’ claws ‘n oozin slime from their eyes!” Hrif exlaimed, “Soon as I met ‘em I wanted to run, but I couldn’t get away ‘fore they threw me on their ship.” He began to tremble a bit and Leona saw Tani tighten her grip on his shoulders comfortingly. Leona could feel how the boy’s emotions shifted from the previous shame to a hot, sharp terror. The strength of his fear sent a chill up her spine and even the divine presence inside of her twitched in response. 

“Can you show me where this all happened?”

 

* * *

 

The three of them walked to the docks and down onto the beach below. Hrif pointed out across the sand to a large spot of charred, blackened rock in the middle of the beach. She approached it slowly and kneeled down at the edge. Reaching her hand out, Leona placed her palm against the scorched rock. Lines and inscriptions, which Leona was all to familiar with, covered the surface of the stone. They were exactly like the holy carvings that covered the sheer rock faces on the slopes of the Mountain, but instead of broken and stretched, these were pristine and complete. 

Her mind was suddenly filled with rushing images. Leona tasted the blood, could feel the pain of flesh wounds, and the smell scalded flesh. The tinge of battle was strong and she was brought back to earlier this morning and her dream. White fire and silverlight, golden warriors, and the earth itself trembling in the face of divine magics. She quickly withdrew her hand from the surface. 

The presence inside of her felt as though it were thrashing about. An unnatural pull bled into her mind and body as though her very being were being dragged away. It drew her across the waters of the sea heading toward the eastern sky. Her mind went back to the last time she had felt this sensation: right after the Solari temple had been destroyed. Leona remembered the moment she woke up to the worried faces of the survivors and trails of silver footprints in the stones heading up the Mountain. 

Excitement turned to pain as she remembered. Friends and family dead, dust and death in the air, and the clear, excruciating knowledge that she had failed them all. Failed to save them. Failed to protect them. 

Pushing the unpleasant memories down, her eyes caught something at the edge of the waterline. A series of black rocks were jutting out of the ground. At the sight of them, the Aspect inside of her shifted into a rage she had never felt before. The intensity of it took her aback as the presence’s fury grew until it was the only thing that filled Leona’s head. Her heart pounded in her chest, and all she could hear was the sound of her own blood rushing in her ears. 

Slowly stepping toward them, she saw they were black and iridescent. Leona might have thought they were simply pieces of obsidian, which would be a strange thing on its own, but the presence inside her trembled in disgust as she approached them. Leona scowled and reached out a hesitant hand toward one of the rocks. Bile filled her stomach and throat as soon as she touched their surface. The Aspect revolted and thrashed against her mind. Visions flashed uncontrollably behind her eyes; visions she had seen countless times in her dreams. An eternal hunger, pools of violet and grasping tendrils of eldritch power consuming all in its path, souls ripped from their vessels and corrupted to feed something unfeelingly cruel. Melting flesh dripping off bone and reforming into plates of chitin, and claws leaking burning acid and putrid black pus. Giant eyes ever watchful in the dark; waiting and predatory in a way that slithered down Leona’s spine and chilled her Sun warmed blood. 

Gasping, Leona released her hold on the stone and stumbled away from them. “What are these?” she barked at her two guides. Her skin felt as though she had been thrown into a glacial lake rather than sitting on a warm beach as she was. 

“It’s where she killed Garthok. Those things are what fell off him,” Hrif said. “No one wanted to touch ‘em, and they’re heavier than they look. Ocean won’t wash ‘em away.” 

“Where did they come from?” 

“Don’t know, never saw,” the boy said. “Staekar told the silver lady somethin’ about some place called uh, Heyra, I’m thinkin’.” 

“It was  _ Hirana _ , Hrif,” Tani supplied, “It’s a sacred monastery on the Ralin provincial island to the east.”  

“Then that’s where I need to go,” Leona said resolute before her mind caught up with what the innkeep had said, “Wait, did you say it was on an island?” She felt her stomach turn at the thought and could almost taste the sick at the back of her throat. 

“Yeah...” the she replied with a questioning look, “what’s wrong with that?”

“Boats and I don’t really… get along,” she said with a grimace, but Leona knew that she couldn’t let something like that stop her. Leona sighed, defeated, “Where can I find a ship to take me there?” 

“Xianju has a big port. Probably be able to find someone there to take you. It’s about a few days walk on the southern road from here.” Tani paused before frowning; a firm tone once again in her voice, “I’ve answered your questions, so you are going to answer mine too. I know I can’t stop you, but what are you going to do to Diana once you find her?” The woman’s suspicious scowl deepened, “You don’t really sound like you are a friend.” 

Leona paused not sure how best to respond. “I’m looking for answers that only she has,” she said. That was actually the truth Leona thought to herself, even though what she did next would be determined by the types of answers she got. If she were to get wrong answers… 

Well, that is what her sword is for. 

“Don’t give me that pile of shit,” the innkeep said. “I noticed the way you tense up when talking about her. You aren’t hiding your anger as well as you might think. I can’t stop you from doing whatever you plan on doing, but remember that she saved us all here. That matters to us, and it should matter to you too. ” 

“What she does will determine what  _ I _ do,” Leona said, “She has committed crimes against my home and my people. It is my duty to protect the ones I care for most. This village has seen for itself how dangerous she can be. If she poses a threat to my people or anyone else, then I will do what I must.” Her tone left no doubt of her resolve. Leona had experienced first hand what Diana could do, and every night since coming to this land she has had to endure vision after vision of what others like her had done in the past. She has seen faces cry out in terror only to be vaporized in an instant, dozens cleaved into pieces by translucent blades of pure moonstone, and many more crushed underneath a magical presence till all that remained were piles of mangled flesh. 

Leona could feel a pin prick of pain behind her eyes as the visions and dreams grew sharper in her memory. She could see the piled bodies of people Leona had never met before, yet she somehow still knew them all the same. She could remember their names, their faces; she knew the sound of their laughter, the sight of them weeping over loved ones killed in battle, and the sound of their last breaths as she held their hands while they died. The shadow of a pale warrior encased in moonlight stood vigil like a spectre over them all. Shining white eyes staring callously as they suffered. All of it from other lives, but ones that felt as real to Leona as the beach she was standing on right now. 

The sounds of the ocean slowly brought her back to the present. Her heart was beating madly in her chest, and Leona’s skin felt flushed as she stared out over the ocean toward the horizon, toward her destination. 

“Violence for the sake of vengeance only brings pain and ruin,” Tani said with more conviction than Leona would have expected. “We’ve seen what blind hate and violence do to people in this land. It this seems like something you have to do, so I wouldn’t try to stop you even if I could. I just hope that what you find will help you find balance in your life.” 

Leona could feel the woman’s frustration at the situation. She obviously didn’t like the thought of someone hunting down the person who saved their lives. “I want you to know that what I do isn’t simply for vengeance. While I may want to get justice for the crimes against my loved ones, there are even greater things at stake than that.” Her thoughts turned to those stones on the beach, and sickening tendrils in the dark. “I truly appreciate the help you have given me here. I know it must not have been easy.” 

“If it wasn’t me, then you would have eventually found someone else to tell you what happened,” she said, “at least this way I can make sure you know what she did for us here.” 

Leona nodded, “I will take your words and advice to heart. At least, as well as I can. I’m a stranger to this ‘balance’ you Ionians talk about so much.” 

“The simplest thing you can do is to keep an open heart to others,” she said, “Many of our own people have forgotten that here, but I like to think we still try.” Tani’s mouth quirked up, “Also remember that warm meal and a good drink isn’t something to take lightly. That’s not a piece of ancient sage wisdom; that’s just some friendly advice from a lowly innkeep. 

Leona couldn’t help but smile a bit at that, “Thank you, and let me give you something in return for your help before I go.” Reaching into one of her bags, she rummaged through her things until she pulled out another small bar of gold about the size of her hand. She walked up and placed the heavy bar into the innkeep’s palm, and grasping her hand with a reassuring squeeze. 

Tani’s eyes grew large at the sight of the golden payment as did Hrif beside her. “Uh…” she began before Leona stopped her.

“May the Sun’s grace be with you always, so that you might never walk in darkness,” she said before ruffling Hrif’s bright red hair and making her way back into town and the southern road. Walking through the streets of the village, Leona considered the woman’s words about Diana. She didn’t know what to think about what happened here. Diana had saved the people of this village, and that was something Leona could respect. 

But Leona couldn’t forget about the people that she killed. The Aspect inside of her pulled her emotions back and forth; lurching from cheering on her supposed enemy, to wanting to rip Diana’s throat out. Leona could always count on the divine presence for its consistent ability to remain inconsistent. 

Seeking any sort reprieve from the raw, divine passions pressuring her, Leona’s mind drifted back onto what she had felt when she had touched the stones that were left behind by the monster that Diana had killed. A slight chill creeped up her spine once again. Like so many of the nightmares she had every night; a corrupting and unfathomable horror lurking below the surface. Waiting. Watching.

Leona didn’t truly know what her destiny was, or why she was chosen to be the Sun’s Aspect, but she knew that whatever this otherworldly force was, that it sought nothing less than to consume and destroy all the people she held dear. Her sword hand tightened. She would never let that happen. There was nothing that would stop her from protecting them. 

Leona thought of Diana. The woman had betrayed those very same people who served to protect the world from destruction. She had succeeded in killing so many members of her family. The pain and hurt from that fateful day in the Council Chambers was still sharp in her heart, and she wanted nothing more than to bring justice for the ones who were lost. 

But Leona also knew of the infinite blackness and the force that seeks to wipe out so much more than just the Solari. Innocents like the people living in this village who Diana had saved. Leona would take what Tani said to heart. If Diana was fighting these things from beyond the veil, then Leona would listen. 

But that didn’t mean she would forget what the heretic had done. If she threatens her friends and loved ones, then Leona would not hesitate to stop her using whatever means necessary. The Gods be damned. 

She stopped for a moment and looked down the southern road, its cobbled surface like that of a river bed. Leona could almost feel the flow of destiny pulling her down its path like a strong current toward her final destination and her would-be enemy. Leona’s skin itched and the presence inside of her felt like it was performing somersaults in her soul as it cheered her gleefully onward. Toward answers. Toward battle. Toward the Scorn of the Moon. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait. I have been working full time while looking for a new job. Didn't have as much time or inspiration to write as I would have liked. It is a bit longer to make up for the lateness and the shortness of the previous chapter, but I hope that this story is still keeping everyone engaged.


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